an old writer and his words

  • NO FAREWELLS

    You’ve been gone something liketwenty-two years now, althoughit doesn’t seem all that long to me.It is like I saw you five years agoand even that seems longer than real.They tell me I was fifty whenyou departed but I can’t clearly recallwhat it was like to be fifty.I know I never said goodbye to youand I…

    Lou Faber

  • FATHERING

    There is a certain cruelty in knowingwhere my birth father is buried, a pictureof his headstone in the National Cemetery,his face as I know it cropped from a group photoof his unit while stationed in New Hampshire.The cruelty is not in that fact, or that I havea picture of the grave of my first adoptivefather…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME

    I don’t know what I expected to findstanding on the corner of a residential streetin Charleston, West Virginia, the domeof the capitol peering up in the distance.That is not surprising, the orange brick homewas much larger than I had assumed, but youlived there only a few years before leavingQuarrier Street to start a life of…

    Lou Faber

  • MY JUDAS

    He, the one I called brotherwanted whatever I hadto give, a droit deprimogeniture, and Icould easily be cast aside,a genetic other with claimonly of time, not blood.Why did they concede to himor were they aware?It hardly matters nowfor they are gone, sheto rest with her daughter,he I know not wherefor there was nothingin the text…

    Lou Faber

  • TURNING

    It has been six full turnsof the shēngxiào since the dayyou brought a baby dragoninto the world and as quicklyset it free, never looking back.It is again my year, and youhave been gone for two decadesbut I was born of waterand so it is perhaps naturalthat on special daysI continue to honoryour memory with my…

    Lou Faber

  • ON LEARNING PAINFULLY

    I cannot begin to tell youhow glad I am that I neverfollowed through on the ideaof flying to Lisbon and searchingfor you or some record of you.After all, she told the adoptionagency when she gave me upthat you were a Portuguese Jewshe met in Washington, D.C.so the odds were good you couldbe found in the…

    Lou Faber

  • WHEN

    When I finally found you,when I finally knelt at your grave,when I finally said hello,when I finally said goodbye,when I finally touched the groundin which you are buriedon the hillside across the riverfrom the city where you were born,a Jewish girl in West Virginianot long removed from Lithuania,when I said my farewell that morningknowing I…

    Lou Faber

  • AROMA

    When I smell the aroma of Nag Champaincense I think of you and I vow to lightsome several times a week.Do not ask why I think of youwith Nag Champa and not cedarwoodfor that will remain a secret,the key to which I do not have.I will burn cedarwood other daysand you will take a seat…

    Lou Faber

  • NO AUDITION

    It was a roleshe never anticipatednever wanted, leftto her sisters to carrythe genetic line forward.And she spentthe last half-centuryof her lifetrying to forgetthe role she playedand had to abandon.Although she now istwo decades goneon the second Mondayof May I now stopbless her and mourn herfor performing the rolethat brought me into being

    Lou Faber

  • FAREWELL

    Is there any good way to remotelyannounce an unexpected death?When our mother died, her son (mystatus as a son then in flux althoughI wouldn’t discover that until later)opted for an early morning phone call,cursory, the time, the cause, its suddenness,and then assigned me to write and pay for the obituary,which he finally approved eight drafts…

    Lou Faber