Tis golden
The spaces in between
Glitters and dances
Do you know what I mean?
If you follow that rainbow
Just over the dale
Turn left at the river
That goes on like a trail
Ignore gospel and gossip
Gather wild strawberries
Drop fertile frustrations
They’re too heavy to carry
Don’t stop for regrets
Or worry about old bills
Just keep on trudging
Up the rugged hill
Before you know it
An ocean you will hale
in an elegant boat
with a billowing white sail
the winds blow forever
like cool waters and warm sands
reach for infinity
with grateful hands
and in all your travels
that will surely lead you home
where the dog waits patiently
composing canine poems
the gold of your smile
the blue of your eyeslives on forever,
there are no goodbyes
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Giving Back
My son, Nikolas Jesus Aguirre, died in a car accident caused by drinking and driving. Worst yet, he was the drunk driver; a seatbelt would have saved his life. But he had the malady of youth, the belief that he would live forever, and so, he died a tragic death that has changed my life forever.
Last week, an old friend came to visit. She had witnessed the birth of my son, and although we hadn’t seen each other for more than eight years, our connection was still strong. I explained to her that the missing still continued to burn a hole in my heart, but that I had many outlets for my grief that made life bearable.
When I told her about performing at drug court graduations, she got teary eyed, and told me about a father that had lost his daughter to cancer 20-years-ago. He had the opportunity to participate in the make a wish foundation to help another child struggling with cancer. Financially, he could help support this endeavor, but physically and mentally, he could not.
At the last drug court graduation, a friend of my son’s graduated from the program. He held his baby daughter in his arms, his face lit up like a thousand stars, his life unfolding in a positive direction, with infinite possibilities.
There was a time when I would have been angry, sad, and incapable of witnessing this event, because my son would never hold his child in his arms. I’m grateful that I can give back, and was able to see this other young man’s infant daughter, to give him a hug, and to tell him, I am so proud of you.
I miss you Niko, everyday.
Last week, an old friend came to visit. She had witnessed the birth of my son, and although we hadn’t seen each other for more than eight years, our connection was still strong. I explained to her that the missing still continued to burn a hole in my heart, but that I had many outlets for my grief that made life bearable.
When I told her about performing at drug court graduations, she got teary eyed, and told me about a father that had lost his daughter to cancer 20-years-ago. He had the opportunity to participate in the make a wish foundation to help another child struggling with cancer. Financially, he could help support this endeavor, but physically and mentally, he could not.
At the last drug court graduation, a friend of my son’s graduated from the program. He held his baby daughter in his arms, his face lit up like a thousand stars, his life unfolding in a positive direction, with infinite possibilities.
There was a time when I would have been angry, sad, and incapable of witnessing this event, because my son would never hold his child in his arms. I’m grateful that I can give back, and was able to see this other young man’s infant daughter, to give him a hug, and to tell him, I am so proud of you.
I miss you Niko, everyday.
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