Counting Back the Milestones
For Dad
We were there
when he unmastered the pencil hold
sloped from walking
to just standing still
falling
from unwindful beers
to early years syllables
sippy cup
cot.
We oversaw the slide from chess to snap.
He held out his tie for us to tie, his laces loose
gave up the spoon
quietly caved his mouth for whatever came
weaned from solids to a liquid diet.
We hauled him in and out of chairs
wiped his mouth while he was elsewhere
winded him.
We ceased eating out –
the accommodating window seat
smiley staff
3 types of iced cream.
Driving him home for the first time
of many
we felt the pulse
on his skull’s fontanelle.
How his brain louped.
Wet-gummed, agape
his long stares from face to face
as he got to know us.
Jonathan Miller is an orthodontist by trade. He writes when he can. Trying to break through to grapple with the art, he is slow as it’s 5am. Today is his Dad’s birthday.