What I didn't say in the poem is that this man was Bird's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life. He was immensely kind. He didn't charge us for the first six years of my son's life. We reconnected when I wrote the memoir, and he read it. That was about ten years ago. We've become dear friends. He is a tender man who spent his retirement years helping with cleft-palate surgeries on children all over the world. Now he's truly retired, and caring for his wife-of-forever, who has Alzheimer's. What a special heart he has.
Yes, the poem took an unexpected turn in the final stanza. As to the music, I could read music as a child, but not now. I just thought that photo expressed high, maybe tumultuous activity at the top, and a quieter patch at the bottom. Life, as I've experienced it! This man served as my son's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life, and treated us with care, kindness, and generosity. We reconnected when I detailed some of that in my memoir ten years ago, and have become dear friends since.
Thank you, Gilly! What I didn't say in the poem is that this man was my son's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life. He was immensely kind. My son has multiple disabilities, including a (repaired) severe heart defect and then a stroke. I was a single mom, and he didn't charge us for the first six years of my son's life. We reconnected when I wrote a memoir about raising my son, and he read it. That was about ten years ago. We've become dear friends. He is a tender man who spent his retirement years helping with cleft-palate surgeries on children all over the world. Now he's truly retired, and caring for his wife of forever, who has Alzheimer's. What a special heart he has.
You had me with the title, and then that first stanza... fortissimo! And then, at the end, it softens to a sweet pianissimo with "The music of what happens waters his eyes." Nicely done, Amrita!
He's a precious friend, and was my son's pediatrician for eighteen years. For the first six of those, he didn't charge us. We were at his office far more than most children. It felt like all the time.
Oooo. I love this one!!!
What I didn't say in the poem is that this man was Bird's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life. He was immensely kind. He didn't charge us for the first six years of my son's life. We reconnected when I wrote the memoir, and he read it. That was about ten years ago. We've become dear friends. He is a tender man who spent his retirement years helping with cleft-palate surgeries on children all over the world. Now he's truly retired, and caring for his wife-of-forever, who has Alzheimer's. What a special heart he has.
Awwwww ❤️❤️❤️
There’s so much going on in that poem (and on that sheet - I imagine, as I cannot read music)! The best music lives on for years, as you’ve intimated.
Yes, the poem took an unexpected turn in the final stanza. As to the music, I could read music as a child, but not now. I just thought that photo expressed high, maybe tumultuous activity at the top, and a quieter patch at the bottom. Life, as I've experienced it! This man served as my son's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life, and treated us with care, kindness, and generosity. We reconnected when I detailed some of that in my memoir ten years ago, and have become dear friends since.
💕💕
Utterly beautiful and heartfelt
Thank you, Gilly! What I didn't say in the poem is that this man was my son's pediatrician for the first 18 years of his life. He was immensely kind. My son has multiple disabilities, including a (repaired) severe heart defect and then a stroke. I was a single mom, and he didn't charge us for the first six years of my son's life. We reconnected when I wrote a memoir about raising my son, and he read it. That was about ten years ago. We've become dear friends. He is a tender man who spent his retirement years helping with cleft-palate surgeries on children all over the world. Now he's truly retired, and caring for his wife of forever, who has Alzheimer's. What a special heart he has.
Beautiful!
Thank you. As is he--my son's pediatrician starting 51 years ago. We really lucked out, my son and I.
You had me with the title, and then that first stanza... fortissimo! And then, at the end, it softens to a sweet pianissimo with "The music of what happens waters his eyes." Nicely done, Amrita!
He's a precious friend, and was my son's pediatrician for eighteen years. For the first six of those, he didn't charge us. We were at his office far more than most children. It felt like all the time.