R.I.P. Mr. Crosby: Neighbor, Friend, Sailor (Day 6)
Mr. Crosby was my neighbor and, recently, had celebrated his 90th birthday. I'd known him, on and off, for around a decade and we'd become friends over the years. When he was up for it, I'd pay him a visit and we might grab a coffee or lunch, together. Perhaps, we'd watch a little television or I could listen to his stories (never quite sure, with the deterioration of his mind, of their veracity). After a recent stroke, he began to come undone more rapidly, cursing like the sailor he once was, more and more frequently, as his life became an unmanageable knot of frustrations.
My solitary neighbor had never married and, other than a few kind souls from his shipping days who checked in on him, from time to time, there was no one in his life. Gradually, his increasing physical ailments became the only company he kept, regularly. As the loneliness and dementia closed in on him, he'd sob, in horror and self-pity, and repeat that he was dying. More than once, he asked me if I'd join him on a ship and head back home. That would be Boston, where he had serviced the boats of the Kennedy family as a younger man (a story I did believe, on account of the details that he provided). I had to decline, but believed I might not see him, again, when I took my last trip out of town, at the end of last year.
Just over a month ago, my wife and I visited him in a nursing home, where he'd been forcibly moved to, in our absence. He seemed bewildered and winded, both embarrassed and grateful for our visit. Yesterday, on our way to pay him another visit at his new home, we learned he had passed away that day. Today's poem is for him.
What will I do on land? he'd asked,
pitifully, when they laid him off from work
He was in his late eighties, at the time
friendless and without family, marooned
A sea-man all his long, lonely life,
he was forced to relinquish all he knew
eventually, the pictures on his wall came down
of mighty waves crashing against a lighthouse
As his light dimmed, he gave up small joys:
the classic music he enjoyed, the daily news
His mind slipping away, he clutched tightly
the tv remote control, mistaking it for a phone
Out to grab lunch, alone, lurching in the streets
he looked like a storm-tossed ship, on a moonless night
and we all watched, helpless, and often in fright
I visited him, at times, with fruit smoothies he enjoyed.
When Iast I traveled, I thought he said goodbye
his eyes fixing mine, in panic, sorrow and fear
upon my return, I found him in an old home
deteriorated and leave-taking even more
Yesterday, on the way to visit, I learned he passed
didn't survive a medical procedure he undertook
Farewell, Bob Crosby, dear neighbor, friend, sailor
I wish you smooth sailing and that you find safe harbor...
© Yahia Lababidi
(Images: mine)
This is my entry for Day 6 of @d-pend's 100 Day Poetry Challenge. To learn more, please, visit Steemit School on discord
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Thank you, for looking out for me!
Sorry to hear of the passing of Mister Crosby. I recall reading a little about him in a previous post. He was fortunate to have you as a friend and neighbor. I echo your words, farewell and smooth sailing.
You remember correctly, dear Kenny. I posted about a month ago, after returning from visiting him in the old people's home. I was lucky to know him. When he was lucid, he'd look after our home when we were travelling and leave little notes saying that everything was in "ship shape". I hope he's free of suffering, now. Thank you, for your compassion _/|_
Life is very short that is why love is much needed to be spread all over through our collective kind actions. This old guy Mr. Crosby lead a wonderful life but his death gave us a message that one day everyone shall die, so do something for the day of judgment!
My prayers to true lord are for Mr. Crosby, may He bless high ranks in the other world, such a touching tribute you gave him Yahia <3
Thank you, for your prayers. Yes, his passing is a reminder of how fragile life is and how we cannot take anything/anyone for granted.
Only Love...
This was a warm and wonderful tribute. I love how you used sea metaphors since he was a sailor. Small details that make the poem/tribute feel just right
Thank you, for noticing, Jeremy. The sea was really his Home, and he lost his footing when he had to remain on land for too long. I'm glad to hear that you feel the tribute is fitting. Peace
So sorry for your pain over his loss. If it’s not impertinent nor presumptuous, I’ll wish, with you, “Farewell, Bob Crosby, dear neighbor, friend, sailor; I wish you smooth sailing and that you find safe harbor...”
Bless your heart, @momzillanc, not at all impertinent... I think the prayers we make for others when they pass help them, somehow, get Home, safely...maybe even to be received with more mercy.
Heaven help us all _/|_
I hope so. It certainly helps those left behind…
Beautifully written. I wish every kind soul would get such a tribute written to accompany them to wherever it is they are gone to.
Thank you very much, Nobyeni. He deserves better, but death is so awesome a thing that it takes most of our words away... I appreciate your warm words of appreciation and wish you/loved ones best of health.
May his soul rest in peace.
Bless you, Andy, he was a good person, with old-world manners 🙏🏼
bless him R.I.P, as the sailor, he will free to sailing with his friend, his dream, and his beloved
Thank you. As a young reader I very much enjoyed the Rubaiyat:
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
― Omar Khayyám
Oh, come with old Khayyàm,
and leave the Wise To talk;
one thing is certain, that Life flies;
One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
-Omar Khayyam.
(i dunno but i feel happy knew you know Omar Khayya)
Amen ✨🙏🏼 🌹 💫
Beauitful poem and experience too for you. Thanks for posting.
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