A Writing Journey

I lose my glasses every day.
Set them down for just a moment
And then spend needless time searching
Retracing steps and going to 
The familiar places hoping they are there.
In the loss comes frustration,
Chastisement for not taking care.
In the finding comes elation,
Joy and gratitude for what I found,
For what I took for granted.

Until the scene repeats itself.
This time, the stakes more serious.
Absentmindedness that leads to
A flat bike tire
In the rain and in the dark.
Why didn’t I check the pressure
Before I left home?

Sometimes the consequences are not
Simply time.
Sometimes worse things can happen.
“But it’s just a tire leak!”
I’ll walk home instead.
What if I lost something more precious?
What if in forgetting, I could never
Turn back time, reverse a decision,
Do things over again?

The day before my father died,
He asked me to take a walk with him.
I refused. I was angry. 
He looked away, disappointed and sad.
That was the last time I spoke to him.
When we lost our father,
We searched for him.
We scoured the streets.
I saw a face that looked familiar;
I thought it was him, that we found him.
But I was mistaken.
We didn’t find my father alive.
We lost him forever.
And I lost my chance to tell him
One last time
That I loved him.

Somethings will never be found.
In the losing, we are reminded
That what we had was precious
And maybe we will hang on
A bit tighter, next time.