Out There





Caves, caves!

Listen to this echo

And agree with me.

Out there is better, after all.


Caves, caves,

Hold the air still and

Remind me I must walk

With dignity, pride.


Out there, people with blinders,

People without — all look.

I must wear my pride.

And have a good reason for it.


Caves, caves,

When I leave you, leave me with a note

Etched in a stone out of you

“Live to live, not to survive”.





I am back from the hospital where my mother is recovering from an angioplasty. I am afraid for her. I am afraid for my father, who is as irresponsible towards his physical health as my mother. I fear. 
When I am older, and in my now, I want to make sure I give myself and my loved ones no reason to fear for my body’s vitality. Or my mind’s. When I am out of this cave that engulfs me with its cool indifference, I want to give — to myself, to my loved ones.  

16 thoughts on “Out There”

  1. It’s so hard to watch our parents go through such things. As children, we imagine them invulnerable. Later, we know the truth.

    My mother had the same procedure. Once we got her past a bit of a bad reaction to the pain medication, she was fine. I hope the same for your mother, and who knows? Perhaps this will be a bit of a caution to your father!

    1. I hope and speculate as you do, Linda.
      I am a bit different than what you describe as knowing the truth. I still want them to be invulnerable. So much, in fact, that I foolishly believe that they are. It’s a difficult life. First you can’t steal the candies because they always know. Then you can’t steal time because it always runs.

  2. You can’t steal time because it always runs. You are amazing. I’m sure your parents recognize this. Hopefully all will be okay soon. Don’t forget to take care of yourself amidst the worry and concern over them.

  3. You’ve been concerned about their health for quite some time. Maybe this is the jolt they need, and they’ll begin to make more of an effort to take care of their health. I hope so. I’m sure they want to watch their beautiful granddaughter grow up.

    Wonderful poem. When does out there become out here?

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