by Yevgeniya Przhebelskaya
He was a complicated man,
very caring, strict, even pedantic,
obsessed with health, mental and physical,
obsessed with wrongs, present and past.
He was caring for his son from an early age,
and eventually "adopted" me; he called me
his daughter, never a daughter-in-law.
I adopted him too, a grand father figure,
humming in the background, praying,
working endlessly, until he needed our care.
Then, he was tired, but only focused on good,
joking with us, and enjoying nature walks and my cooking.
Sudden hospital stays, more shared meals,
him trying to comfort our new baby,
memories overlap,
like precious and broken objects in his old home.
We are sorting through both,
finding new treasures every day.