A CHILE PEPPER FOR JOE SANDERS
--for Joe and Bob Sanders
0253 hours
16 November 2024
Karen looks at the clock
and says, I can’t sleep.
Joe Sanders is dead.
A family member gone.
He died in his sleep.
But. Yes. I know.
The perfect death. Our
emptiness, a part
of us. Karen remembers
the last time we saw him
on the 4th of July. Joe
loved those fire crackers
almost as much as Joe
loved buying them. Not
as much as his black pickup,
shoveling neighbors’ driveways
and his hot tub—and barbecue.
A consciousness filled with cariño
helps us choose awesome, Father
Boyle says. Joe poured black
pepper on salad, on pasta,
until it looked like gravel
on gravel road. Joe Sanders
loved his brother Bob’s fresh-
made rolls, and would come
to the house early. Joe played
baseball, and had a bad knee.
He collected stamps, Joe did,
and delivered the mail. Joe
was a sailor who could talk ports
and California beaches. A Catholic,
Joe would worship with the Lutherans
and leave before taking Communion.
Belonging is always the uncounted
score in Joe’s cribbage game,
and Joe loved cribbage. Somehow
we lost that question. That conversation
never had a chance to return. Joy
was matter-of-fact with Joe
as he picked up the Serrano Chile
from his plate. God in that Serrano
Chile was never in doubt.
Jim Bodeen
18 November 2024
●
LINES FOR BOB DURING THE DAYS
AFTER HIS BROTHER DIES
Bob, it’s through knowing Joe
I came to know you in your deepest story.
Knowing you through family is what I love most.
After your marriage to our daughter--
you two firecrackers coming back
from the fireworks stand in Moxee
on the 4th of July.
Reading the second
Beatitude today,
Sorrow Bearer,
Holding it, staying
with it, carrying it,
Blessed are they who mourn
for they shall be comforted,
how I walk with you, Bob,
Being with the suffering,
being suffering,
A Jesus man
Into the surf-mix-wet-week
where we all of us,
salted and assaulted
in our weakness
become blessings
Love,
Dad
22 November 2024
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment