Sunday Morning Reflections

In line at the post office, I talked to a man.

He told me he went down south to pick up his dad

who, suffering from dementia, was in a bad place.

The man told me his dad has fits of rage, falls down,

gets hurt, wanders off, police has to be called.

I asked the man if he could take care of himself 

in the midst of all this.

He said, “I always thought it weak to take pills,

now I take a Valium every morning 

just to make it through the day”

He told me his mom raised her kids by herself.

“What about your dad?” I asked

“I was terrified of my dad,” he said 

“and glad when he left.

He beat my mom and us children too.

I was very scared of him then.”

“And now you’re taking care of him?”

The man said, simply, “he’s my dad....”.