Goodbye To You Poem by bob barci

After all these years
you’re leaving town on very short notice.
Leaving, without giving me time to adjust to it.
Meeting you was one of the best things to have happened to me.
It was our overlapping shifts
at the same workplace that did it.
You always thought
that the mess left by the closing crew
was left by me to annoy you.
I don’t recall
exactly how I convinced you it wasn’t.
Anyway,
it still amazes me how we got to be good friends, so quickly.
How can I forget
all those holiday meals
and just for the hell of it dinners
that you had me over for?
I still haven’t figured out
which was more annoying -
us arguing over how we wanted to play Uno,
or how hubby would walk in during the middle of a game
and try to tell you how you should be playing.
I remember you always being peeved
when son wasn’t home at a promised time.
How about all those Bingo games at St. Vincent’s
that we lost by just one number?
How great it was when one of us would win,
no matter how small the prize.
Do you recall the time we went to Great Adventure?
How relieved we were that
neither one of us got wet on that rapids ride,
even though it was hot that day and getting soaked would have felt good.
Houdini, Friskie, and now Peaches, the pet hamsters,
running across the kitchen table was a common sight.
Seeing all those crocheted squares on the coffee table for an afghan
always made me stop to pick out the ones I liked best.
The one you made for me never leaves the bed, except to be washed.
With Roseanne, and sometimes Joe,
we were like the three or four musketeers
going out on our weekly excursions.
Remember them?
Wendy’s. Taco Bell. All you can eat Chinese. Stop 21.
Remember those parties we went to?
The one at Sheila’s?
The one at Ruby’s for her daughter’s graduation?
When Ed went into the Navy?
The couple times you went into the city with me?
Now these times have ended as you move away.
For the record,
let it be known,
that I love you,
and will never, ever, be able to say,
goodbye to you
dedicated to Barbara Redling and Family