THE BEQUEST
The trust document has been sealed and blessed by all.
No ambiguities were left to slightly-lawyer blur.
It is clear where all things material are to go.
Money, house, car and furniture to the last stick.
Books and paintings carefully parsed.
Even the wines and African masks were person-tagged.
There in one document was an account of all the things in my life.
Many hours were spent making this division.
Above all, fairness was the goal.
There was no reward for greater attention
nor slight in return for slight.
Just the fair way of my father and his father.
But in that set of words so carefully honed
there is no mention of the important things
I have accumulated in my 80 some years.
In that notarized and sealed document does it
indicate who gets my palette for foothill zinfandel wine,
cheese and San Francisco sourdough?
And where goes my daily optimism
which allowed me to answer: “Great” to every
friend and stranger alike who asked of my health?
And whose eyes will cloud to near tears
when the first notes of Satin Doll
jazz ring forth with such vitality?
What does that paper say about my memories?
Of voices and faces of the passing parade
of notables and just plain folks?
Where go the files in my head of
books read, songs heard, moonlight
shared with a warm hand in mine?
And to whom, pray tell, can the skill go
of barbecuing and knowing just
the right amounts of garlic in the stew?
And who should get the hard-learned skill
of rolling with it and taking life’s
pain with a shrug instead of an anguished yelp?
I have many secrets of special moments
never shared with anyone for four decades
and for which I am the only source.
Ah, face it, I just won’t be able to make
the appointment to leave this life.
I don’t have a problem with leaving all those
things--just the essences of me!
Doug Minnis 10/06/10