Not Yet.

I looked at my grandparents’ pictures last night.
The ones in the china cabinet.
And for once, I spoke back.

Not yet.

For there is still work to be done,
Causes and people to fight for,
Legacies to protect.

Not yet.

Because someday,
A violinist will need his first and his favorite accompanist
To help play a Romance for his bride.

And someday,
A dancer will need to do so with her father at her wedding,
Whether he’s invited or not.

I do not know Where We All Go,
And I’m not planning on knowing the way for some time either.

But I do know a wife who needs her husband,
A son and a daughter who need their father,
Friends who need staunchest of supporters.

And sure, ideally we could us for as long as possible.
A fool’s errand, I’m sure.

Love is a terrible thing sometimes,
For grief is a twisted price to pay for it.
To delay it is human nature.

But the piece is not yet finished.
A fermata, not a double bar.
We hold as time stands still, but ultimately we continue.

So, please,
By whatever Creator or Entity that keeps watch,
All I ask…

Not yet.

Sorry folks, this one doesn’t get the Wumbo moniker. And you’re on your own for entertainment options this week, but it’s conference tourney week, so I’d guess watch that.

Get well soon, Dad.