Posted by on 13 April 2015

Springtime brings to mind new beginnings which includes graduations. When my son Reid graduated high school and started college, I wrote the following poem. Enjoy time with your children and make positive memories. 

I looked for you in your bedroom, but you were gone
Your bed meticulously made with the oversized comforter
Obscuring the bottom half and no sign of you peeking out
The side lights jutting elbow-like from the wall
On either side of your pillows turned off
The pictures in the room-one of you swimming
Most of you sitting, one on my lap; one of you graduating
Told me you had been there
The too comfortable burnt orange chair in the corner of the room
With its overstuffed seat and arms of crushed fabric which you melted into
Where you and I sat a million times-you playing guitar and me singing off key-empty: the fabric perfectly stitched in patterns I now saw for the first time

I looked for you in the game room, but you were gone
The beat-up, fake leather, vomit brown couches so cold now
Where you taught me to play Beginner Drum for Guitar Hero
By the time I got to Intermediate we’d completed the entire collection and you were no longer challenged
I’d sung many songs as we racked up the points and
I even tried Beginner guitar-but you were the true guitar hero
Ping-pong paddles resting on each side of the ping pong table
With the ball balanced precariously below the blue paddle
On your side
We’d played and laughed and told stories as the ball went back and forth-the table was there with paddles and ball, but you were gone

I looked for you in my bedroom, but you were gone
The enormous flat screen TV that only your genius brought to life
Was turned off and only reflected my shadow and the room behind me
The comedies we’d watched I still chuckled over: the jokes I didn’t get that you explained to me
My bed was undisturbed except for my side where I’d recently napped; before I’d started the journey looking for you
Ricky lay motionless at the foot of the bed-curley-q’s of white yarn
Stretched out from the ball lay waiting for your touch
So that his body could emit its guttural growl
Ricky waited with me for you, but you were gone

I looked around the entire house, but nowhere could I find you
The kitchen where we’d shared our days’ adventures
And celebrated Shabbos with a small glass of Manischewitz
The family room where we’d played cards and games including
The never-ending Harry Potter game
Even the outside porch in the stifling heat-I didn’t go out
but just gazed through the rectangular windows on the doors
for any clue of your presence- you weren’t there

You were no longer in the house
You had graduated
I realized… Reid, you grew up
I didn’t.


Dr. Michael F. Weisberg

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Dr. Michael Weisberg has practiced gastroenterology in Plano, Texas for 24 years.

He has been named D Magazine’s list of best doctors eight times and has been recognized as Super-Doctor by Texas Monthly multiple times.

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The Hospitalist is provocative, revealing, and riveting… Weisberg has exposed how the patient-doctor relationship has changed in the modern age.”

- Doug Ross, author of Hard-Boiled