Terry Trowbridge

Choose Old, Choose Dear
 
between my fingers, old and dear
-Emile Nelligan, Ship of Gold, 56.
 
A few years cannot be compared to many years.
-The Book of Chuang Tzu, 2.
 
Some of us know this dilemma.
We must choose either to pursue
what is dear to ourselves
in the middle of our lives;
or to redirect ourselves to serve
an elder family member’s care.
 
This moment, when we have learned
our positions among our peers,
(and maybe how not to compare each other)
now that we’ve revealed our real selves
to ourselves by our own means of measure.
This choice, too, will determine our future,
and the outcomes will be what we know
when we are old enough to need the help
of maturities, families, annuities.
 
On the other end of balance, the far end,
the diminishing weight of a parent
whose retirement is tiring, if not exhausting.
We come calling and then can’t leave,
and beg our pardons of our responsibilities
just one more day. Let’s plan a week,
consider a month. Tremors begin to insist
we consider our own futures, if we will need,
and what we want; worse, the widening space
between savings and sundown.
The price of caring is spent,
and means less banked for our own care.
 
Homo economicus claims that solved games
quantify dignity. Solved games still can’t decide
for us, against us, before or after we realize
the profits of our youth. These middle years
are our greatest accomplishment, our strongest power.
Power: but power only to realize it is only the power to choose.
Only to realize that our life’s accomplishment will be this choice.

Terry Trowbridge is a poet, book reviewer, and fruit farmer who lives on Canada's shore of Lake Ontario.