When Delia died she disappeared
From mouth and mind
Passing away into the past,
The collective family memory
Described Delia as ‘distant’.
Mr Delia remained alone a year or so
Then joined Delia in death.
As my in-laws became my out-laws
I climbed to the attic
To perform a purge of unwanted memories
Surprisingly, I discovered Delia.
In an old travel chest
Covered in dead dust motes,
I found her in travel diaries and little notes
In old photos
I found her wearing furs,
Posing in exotic places
Surrounded by smiling friends.
So I pulled Delia from the past
Sitting for some hours in the attic
Soaking up her stories,
She was neither ‘odd’ nor ‘distant’
She was wonderful.
In another time and place
We were surely friends.
Silently, I mourned her for some moments
Then lifted a small cheap charm bracelet
From the old chest
That once atypically adorned Delia’s wrist,
To bring her around the world
For one more whirl.
©Author Berni Mac