How could I share my life with the world without mentioning one of the most important influences on my life. Albert Flack, even though I only was around him sparaddically through out my life, has been , and always will be, an important person to remember. The world, it seems, lost a great human being this summer when he past away.
I have had a hard time trying to come to terms with his passing. I still mainly rememeber his generosity, his humor, his stubbernness, and his zest for life. The man never could sit down for long and always has a open door to anyone who he cared about. Even though he was never a blood relation, his passing felt like I (and my immediate family) lost a member of the family.
Below is a poem I wrote last December to try to come to terms with his death.
|My mind is full|
|of your balding scalp|
|Covered by a black and gold Genesee Beer cap|
|So I still find it hard to believe|
|That you are gone, old friend|
|I can still smell your lit Marlboro|
|Hear the racket of your singing voice|
|Chewing on the gum balls you used to give me|
|I have to remind myself still|
|No more Cornhill Festivals|
|Hot summer afternoons|
|Addressing you as ostrich|
|Especially when mother would rustle your feathers|
|Watching the tube inside your bedroom|
|Or sitting inside the brick walled kitchen|
|Although world seems empty now|
|When I think of you, dear friend|
|I can not help but smile|