Life, Blood & Charles Bukowski

I got the dreaded call from Gavin’s school today. He’s the youngest in the entire school. His teacher told us that he’s very smart, has an incredible vocabulary, and is brave.

“Hello is this, Matt? Gavin has been in the nurses office for about an hour. He’s OK, but he did bite his tongue and it won’t stop bleeding.”

While on the way to the ER, Gavin, fell asleep. I watched him in my rear view mirror knowing blood was filling his mouth. Eventually I could hear the blood interfering with his breathing. I asked him to wake up and swallow. He did, while half asleep, swallow the blood.

I parked outside the ER and grabbed paper towel. I reached back toward Gavin. I woke him up, with the paper towel ready to catch the blood. It took a moment for him to wake, but when he did, he wore a worried look and I could see he was active with his tongue inside his mouth. “It’s OK, just spit it into this.” Gavin opened his mouth and a clot was on top of his tongue. He spit the clot, along with more blood, into the paper towel.

He never once cried.

The ER doctors opted not to cauterize the laceration. They didn’t want to cause Gavin trauma. Megan held ice to his tongue all evening and finally the bleeding stopped.

And for some reason unknown to me, Gavin bounced his way up to ‘Alexa’ our digital-voice friend whom many of you might also have and said, “Alexa, play Charles Bukowski.”

Seems Gavin will be just fine. But I’m not.

-Matt

A treat, a bath, and a sleeping child.

How can anyone abuse a child?
I picked Gavin up from daycare.
He told me he was a good boy today
and that means he gets a treat,
and a bath. We always give him
a bath, but he lingers on the thought
about how being good means getting a bath.
Gavin was sound asleep when I pulled
our truck into the garage. I managed
to carry him into the house and lay
him on the couch without waking him.
Gavin being asleep means he didn’t take
a nap. When I took his rain boots off,
sand spilled all over the couch cushions.
I smiled and pet his head. “Gavin, it’s time
to eat dinner and take a bath.” I said sweetly.
It’s easy for me to be sweet to him. I love him.
He didn’t wake. I told myself not to write about
this, but my body walked up the stairs and sat
on my chair to write about it. Now though, I
need to stop the writing and wake Gavin.
He really does need a bath 🙂

-M. Taggart

Yes. That’s Gavin. He loves Dinos.

small brilliant smiles

‘A bumblebee.
I’m seeing it with my eyes’
That’s what my not yet
three-year-old just told me.
No need to overthink
what ought to be written
when life delivers every day
All I need to do is listen-

-M. Taggart

Sent from my iPhone

A strawberry state of mind

“A Strawberry, in my hand. Yea?”
I straight face him – I’m the parent
“A strawberry touching my fingers?”
Uh oh. He’s upped his game
“And on my tongue.”
This was a pure and direct statement
No question about it
I told him no more strawberries
I’m walking to the kitchen
To get two more

-M. Taggart

Sent from my iPhone

Not Their Void – A Poem

My grandfather was orphaned
While in utero
His father committed suicide
Before he was born
His mother gave him,
Along with his siblings
To the state

When he was 18 he joined the Navy
And never looked back
I wish I could have known him
He held me once
When I was six months old
He was 41 when he died
I am told I’m a lot like him

Our neighbor’s husband is moving to Florida
They have a young son and daughter together
And both are now stuck with abandonment’s scar for life
I hope he enjoys his new life
And that he eventually realizes his flesh
Is worthless
It infuriates me to know there are people in this world
So void they rip holes where hearts beat
Hearts held in place by tiny frames
And little feet with little hands
Please little ones, understand you are not their void.

-M. Taggart

And so it goes

I woke this morning thinking of how somewhere
A mailman will walk the same route
and smile at the same dog in the window-
A diner cook is frying eggs for a woman who’s shaking from grief
Needing comfort
The hot coffee was the first warmth she’d been given
A school bus driver swings open the doors and greets two children
One of which didn’t have breakfast but will soon because the doors just opened and the bus always takes them to school where the cafeteria is
And their school teacher thinks
about how some children have parents who make breakfast and some don’t
And about how some children care
And some don’t
All While the mailman walks whistling as he goes saying hello to Spring flowers

-M. Taggart

 

Sent from my iPhone