the coming night soon will stir
I sit quietly in my old red chair
with warm memories gathered ’round me
forward through the years they’ve come
memories of those I’ve been well to know
been blessed to love, and who’ve loved me
for those now gone beyond – a tender tear
my heart is full, my spirit calm, my life is sweet
I surrender to another year in fate’s embrace
I am grateful for my life, never sought perfection
I have been given so very much for so very long
the sun that rises golden to warm the day
the breeze that wafts soft upon my face
mountains that rise majestic, covered in old growth
the rivers, the lakes, the clear mountain streams
the teeming nature and vital plants
so plentiful on this beautiful earth
my precious children and grandchild
the miraculous moments of their birth
I have felt the power of the mighty ocean
breaking on the boulders ‘neath rugged western cliffs
watched the sun set, coral and golden, into the azure sea
had the love of a wife, and family, to share this all with me
would this evening’s reverie never end
but soon the lingering day will bow its head
as twilight fades I’ll watch this night descend
at 72 – grateful where my life has led
rob kistner © 2019
”My actual old red chair.”
 
First of all, belated congratulations on your 72nd birthday, Rob! I love the opening lines, so cosy and comforting, and the list of things for which to be grateful. One small pedantic quibble – the past tense of ‘to lead’ is ‘led’. 😉
Thank you Kim! My spellcheck is mostly helpful, but not always! Thank you for the birthday wishes Kim! Qi
Nice line: “I surrender to another year in fate’s embrace”
Thank you Frank. Yes, when that line came to me it rang loud and true as the best possible way to help express my current situation. It is exactly where I am. Being now 6 years and counting past the life expectancy for men in my health conundrum – I must work tenaciously to stay alive, ever vigilant and disciplined every waking hour of the day, maintaining 7 different health regimens of multiple pills, multiple injections, multiple testing, throughout each day. In addition, there are weekly visits to one of my 4 different primary doctors (Cardiologist, Endocrinologist, Urologist, and Internist), plus three 1-hour sessions weekly (M/W/F) with my physical therapist. But with doing all this, and I do so dedicatedly no matter how tired or soar I’ll I feel – I remain daily in fate’s tenuous embrace, especially during my sleeping hours because of my apnea. What I find fascinating about this, is the fact that this has now simply become the essential pattern of my life. The describing of it unveils the complexity of it, but the living of it is a normal routine from my perspective. It is simply what I do, and will continue to do, to keep extending past my expiration date. Life is sweet, and I want all I can get! 🙂
a belated happy birthday. wonderful poem Rob
Thank you very much Gina! 🙂
Happy Birthday Rob! So glad you are still making great poetry! You and I share the same birth year! Love your poem of facing the reality of aging. A poem a day…
Thank you Dwight! We all handle what we must as we age if we enjoy living and choose to continue living. I am so grateful for all these medical breakthroughs that now allow to live years longer than a man in my situation would have lived even just a few decades ago. And yes, a poem a day keeps the reaper away… 🙂
I can identify with this on many levels. First, for memories and the continued blessing of that golden sun and warm breeze. Not just for myself (66 in two weeks – fortunately no pressing health concerns), but for my children, as well. Especially for my daughter (a second point) who is diabetic, although not “brittle.” However, we had some trying times when she was younger. The third point would be Medtronic, which was the maker of her first insulin pump. At the time, we had to strongly argue for her team to allow a nine year-old child to have a pump. (Now they allow infants to use them.) 18 years later, she wears a wireless, tubeless pump and CGM, and she’s healthy and looking forward to raising a family. Hurrah, for progress and technology.
Yes, I could feel your poem in many ways.
Oh Ken, blessings to you and your family – most certainly your daughter. Challenges like hers are not something a child should face. But how fortunate we are in these times to have medical advances that help us better cope, and have the chance for a future of possibility. My sincere best wishes that she continue to enjoy a full life. My diabetes being brittle, the insulin pump path never worked out for me. However, I no longer need to prick my finger every hour like I did for years. I now have a Lifestyle Libre electronic glucose monitor that I insert into and adhere to my arm, that I read with a hand held receiver every hour. Just swipe the receiver past the monitor in my arm, and instant reading that is accurate enough to determine what insulin amount I need to inject, and when. It keeps a running digital log, and each reading tells me if my blood sugar is stable or going up or down – and the approximate rate of change. I have very few incidents of insulin generated hypoglycemia. I si,ply insert a new monitor into my arm every 14 days. What a blessing that is for me Ken. Thank you for sharing the good outcome of your daughter’s story. May she be surrounded with the love of her children well into old age!
Rob, I am so touched by this. It hits very very close to home for me — in just a bit of a different way – from a different viewpoint. In 2013 my husband had a 6 minute cardiac arrest – not a heart attack. It actually stopped for 6 minutes. Thankfully there were what I call angels along the way….someone who immediately started CPR….the EMTs who literally drove their ambulances across the street (we live across from the Mass General Hospital campus) and shocked his heart twice to get it going again. The amazing care given in CICU — the implanted pacemaker/defib little machine now in his chest. He is a walking miracle — 100% himself cognitively. And….his chair in our living room is not red, but it is a burgundy leather chair. Everything you’ve written here, I truly understand. We are thankful for every day.
Bless your health and your family….and the happiest of belated birthdays to you. As I mentioned in the chat portion after the prompt, 1947 was a very good year! May there be many more years filled with good and boring health 🙂 – and laughter and love.
Bless you and your husband Lillian. We are fortunate in our life and times, to be able to enjoy these miraculous possibility for longer, happier lives. It wasn’t many years ago that such miracles were not in the cards. And bless those first responders who know how to save your husband. My heart stopped when I was already in the hospital, so while the need to save me was urgent, there were fewer obstacles than your husband encounter. I and my family, as I as sure your husband and you, are extremely thankful for every new day of life. Aldo, thank you for the birthday wishes Lillian! 🙂
Happy belated birthday, Rob, and thank you for sharing your gratitude.
Thank you RW! 🙂
Happy Birthday, Rob! This was so heartfelt and beautifully written. How wonderful to be living such a full life!
Thank you Irma, I appreciate it! 🙂
Pieces of furniture can hold so much of our lives. We don’t spend enough time considering the gifts we have been given. May you have many more years to enjoy these blessings. (K)
Hi Kerfe. My old red chair has been with me for 29 years. I have written a lot of poetry while seated in it, read a lot of books, listened to a lot of music, watched a lot of movies, written and spoke to a lot of friends, learned of the moment of my son Aaron’s tragic death, was told by my son Justin of his engagement, learned of the magical moment of my grandson Alex Aaron’s birth, and held him for the very first time. My old red chair is filled with a myriad of memories.
Happy birthday and may there be many more happy memories and love!!! Cheers!!!
Thank you Grace, very much! 🙂
Happy birthday. I, like you, choose to celebrate the year I was granted to live on my birthday instead of bemoaning that I am aging. It is a day of gratitude since not everyone gets another year.
This is the line that spoke most to me,
“I surrender to another year in fate’s embrace”
I hope this is your best year yet.
Thank you Alicia! 🙂
At 85, I identify with much of what you’ve written, Rob. I like to say I’ve reached the age of contentment, when I forgive myself for what I might have done better, and accept that I did the best I knew how at the time. So many blessings to count!
In the end, if we are a decent person, all we can do is our best. And like you said Bev, just forgive ourselves for the times we dropped the ball.
Your red chair looks comfortable.
Gratitude and memories are a great combination ????
We really have so much to be happy!
yes we do Anita, so much! 🙂