Sunday, March 23, 2008

In Celebration of My Father's Birthday

My father, Berny Schwartz, has been dead for more than 18 years. He died in February of 1989, during the fifth month of my pregnancy. I loved him dearly. Today is his birthday. He would have been 87. Although I don't have much that he's written, I do have poems that my mother wrote about him and to him.

To Berny: 1992
Between Tracy's birthday and St. Valentine's day
My beloved slipped away
Although I love being a new grandmother
In my other life
What I loved the most...
was being your wife.

I Miss You
It's almost 3 years
And your face is beginning to fade
And the plans that we made
I have finally laid to rest
But those 45 years
Were the best
And even though your face is dimming
And you are gone and I am living
I miss you...
with every breath I take.


Gianna said...

those made me seem to have had beautiful parents.

Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

I did have wonderful parents. And I cried as I was typing them from my mother's book of poetry!


my life with bipolar disorder said...

Your mother wrote such lovely poems. Glad you have such sweet memories of your parents :)

Jenalexa said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Dear Jenalexa,
Thanks so much for your comment. My mother died last October and I'm still in mourning for her. But, theirs truly was a marriage made in heaven!


Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Dear Nanci,
Thanks so much for writing. I do have wonderful memories!


KJ said...

Your mother was a truly gifted writer. You definitely share her writing genes! Thank you for sharing such beautiful expressions of love with the rest of us.

Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Dear KJ,
Thank you so much! What was great about my mother was that she always expressed her love through her poetry. Also, she never made a big deal about writing. Although she wrote a neighborhood column for 40 years, she mostly wrote all these poems for everyone on scraps of paper, on envelopes, and on date book pages. About 30 years ago, I bought her a notebook, and titled it "In My Life," and asked her to type the poems in a book so that they'd all be in one place.