Old Habits Die Hard( in memory of my father, Al Greening)
The last time we stayed with you and Mum
I noticed you'd slowed down a lot
but now and then
you'd disappear to the woodpile
and flatten tins with the back of an axe
or hurry around the house like an old stayer
as if you knew you were running out of time...I remember how Mum had shaken her head
stating sternly, 'He's like a naughty little boy'
and how I marched outside to tell you off
while you joked and laughed
as you flattened more tins
showing me there was life
in the old boy yet...There's not much I remember
about that last visit
except that it was Easter
and Mum and I took a Sunday drive
to lunch and splurge at the Lavender Farm
and we arrived home later than expected
and you voiced your concern...Next morning, as we prepared
to leave for the Parade,
Mum wasn't well
and you wanted to rest,
so you both stayed home
put up your feet
and read for a stretch
before taking a nap...On our return
we hurried through sandwiches and tea
then departed with the usual goodbyes
(telling you both to take it easy
to follow doctor's orders
and to stay out of mischief... )Heading home round the circle of trees
I would have certainly seen you watching
and waving goodbyeOnly I still can't recall
that final frame
those last living moments
our very last goodbye...
