MEMORIES

It was just days before the wedding, and TLW (The Little Woman) had taken out a box of memories, those gut wrenching cards and letters from so long ago. They centered on my daughter Ellen.

Daylight
See the dew on the sunflower
And a rose that is fading
Roses whither away
Like the sunflower
I yearn to turn my face to the dawn
I am waiting for the day . . .

There were many cards that I had sent to her, when she was born, and when she reached her first birthday. There were little poems I wrote to her, and to TLW, while they started out life in the maternity ward at Southside Hospital, back in 1972.

Midnight
Not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory?
She is smiling alone
In the lamplight
The withered leaves collect at my feet
And the wind begins to moan

What amazed me was how many times I wrote to her, how many times I told them both how wonderful they truly are, how very happy I was back then. Of course, I could not read the future; little did we both know what luck my daughter would have.

Memory
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again

I can still picture her beautiful face, when she was born, her pink round face so beautiful to look at, so happy it made me. I was the father of a beautiful child, the first Del Broccolo born as a grandchild to my parents.

Every streetlamp
Seems to beat a fatalistic warning
Someone mutters
And the streetlamp gutters
And soon it will be morning

In the box of memories were cards from people I loved when they were alive, such as my boss Larry Chait, my mentor Jack Stern, my friends and relatives. There was even a warning to TLW from my sister Fran to keep the baby away from me because I spoil babies!

Daylight
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
And I musn't give in
When the dawn comes
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin

And so each memory builds a sense of time and place. Each memory reminds us of whom we were years ago, as we developed into what we are today. Each memory turned a page and led us to our next memory, on a new day.

Burnt out ends of smoky days
The stale cold smell of morning
The streetlamp dies, another night is over
Another day is dawning

I can reach back and touch those days. I can hear the people as they murmur in the background, and feel the joy and sadness of yesterday, all because of memories of so long ago.

Touch me
It's so easy to leave me
All alone with the memory
Of my days in the sun
If you touch me
You'll understand what happiness is

I am so glad for all the memories, because they tell me I have lived. I wish I could remake the sad times, and savor more the good times. But today is a memory too, today will help me turn the pages of my life until, there are no pages left to turn, then there will be only memories.

Look
A new day has begun

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO TWO GREAT GALS:
MAUREEN & ANGELA!