The Parental Home
The Parental Home
My parents’ house is permanently closed.
The doorbell remains curiously silent.
There is no longer Mom to welcome me with open arms
and her wonderfully legendary smile.
There is no longer Dad to tell me about his many travels,
to share his famous jokes
and give me advice about my job and career.
There are no more magical smells coming from Mom’s kitchen,
making my mouth water
in anticipation of a good feast
and delicious dishes
of which only she knew the secret.
My parents were so proud to see me become a doctor.
They had no idea that once they became ill,
I would be the one watching over them and their unfortunate fate!
Since their passing, the peaceful atmosphere that reigned in our home is gone.
There is no more joy of living.
And, so to speak,
even the hands of the wall clock have stopped moving.
And the swing has ceased its endless back and forth.
No more tick-tock,
no random music.
There are no more heated debates between my brothers and sisters,
debates that only Dad had the art of settling
with wisdom, favoring no one.
He taught us how to discern things,
to compose poetry, verses, and prose.
He amazed his audience
with his funny stories.
Now, there are no more guests in the house.
A divine silence reigns, like a sacred communion.
Time first suddenly stopped on October 3rd, 1996.
It froze forever on December 5th, 2018.
From now on, I am left only with prayers,
that their souls may rest in peace.
Dr. Bouchareb Fouad
Agadir, August 21st, 2022
All rights reserved
Partager:
The Parental Home
copier:
https://bluwr.com/p/406603081
The Parental Home
My parents’ house is permanently closed.
The doorbell remains curiously silent.
There is no longer Mom to welcome me with open arms
and her wonderfully legendary smile.
There is no longer Dad to tell me about his many travels,
to share his famous jokes
and give me advice about my job and career.
There are no more magical smells coming from Mom’s kitchen,
making my mouth water
in anticipation of a good feast
and delicious dishes
of which only she knew the secret.
My parents were so proud to see me become a doctor.
They had no idea that once they became ill,
I would be the one watching over them and their unfortunate fate!
Since their passing, the peaceful atmosphere that reigned in our home is gone.
There is no more joy of living.
And, so to speak,
even the hands of the wall clock have stopped moving.
And the swing has ceased its endless back and forth.
No more tick-tock,
no random music.
There are no more heated debates between my brothers and sisters,
debates that only Dad had the art of settling
with wisdom, favoring no one.
He taught us how to discern things,
to compose poetry, verses, and prose.
He amazed his audience
with his funny stories.
Now, there are no more guests in the house.
A divine silence reigns, like a sacred communion.
Time first suddenly stopped on October 3rd, 1996.
It froze forever on December 5th, 2018.
From now on, I am left only with prayers,
that their souls may rest in peace.
Dr. Bouchareb Fouad
Agadir, August 21st, 2022
All rights reserved
Partager:
The Parental Home
copier:
https://bluwr.com/p/406603077
