Thirty years is a long time. A helluva long time.
Thirty years after I graduated from college, I wrote about taking my youngest child to begin his career there. Damn good piece, if I do say so.
2012 was a big year in my family. Multiple graduations, weddings, milestone birthdays and anniversaries got me thinking about my mother, who by dying in 1986 had missed out on the entire lives of her grandchildren. I wrote this poem and posted it that year.
I’ve posted other things on this date, my mother’s yahrzeit, in previous years: 2015, 2014, and 2011, in addition to the above link to 2012. But for some reason, today the words “thirty years” pack a special wallop. I re-read my poem (damn good, if I do say so) and decided to post it again. (Please don’t sue me for plagiarism):
Gone too soon, gone so long, a dozen lifetimes ago;
Blankets and booties to caps and gowns; seasons change, ebb and flow.
We pause; we think; we imagine; we recall.
Piano recitals, horses to show, Frisbee, hockey, ballet,
From the sidelines of soccer to the banks of the regatta,
We daydream; what if?
In moments of silence, alone with our thoughts,
Or gathered together in the raucous din that is our joy,
The light of remembrance shines on in our hearts.
Though we only light this candle once a year,
The memories we hold are always near.
Gone so long, gone too soon, a dozen lifetimes ago;
Seems like yesterday; seems like eternity;
Dozens of lifetimes to go.