The First Thing We Do
The First Thing We Do
Jack would do
anything
for anyone
you were told.
So you waited
in his lobby
interested to hear
what information
he might provide.
From a plaque on the wall
a Bible verse stated
obedience to God
would bring about good governance.
A painting of Washington
kneeling on the banks
of the Delaware
hung.
As for your mother,
she’d already crossed
the Rubicon.
Jack’s secretary,
who’d earlier
said
her father, too,
was suffering from
dementia
and had expressed such
understanding,
told you coldly,
“He can’t see you.”
No jot and tittle
means sympathy’s
in short supply.
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It sounds like Jack does not live the life he proclaims. A little sympathy and empathy helps ease a troubled heart. If this was you, Tom, I hope that you found someone more receptive to hear your story.
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Thanks, Judy.
Yes, sympathy and empathy is a great help indeed.
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A bit of a slap as the disappoint always surprises us, but never should – we allow expectations to become ballooned anticipations of . . . disappointments. Sorry Tom.
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Not much one can do, Mary, except wonder at how unfeeling some can be. At the same time, one can be thankful and take comfort from those who can and do show empathy.
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I found myself reading this again – a sad reality Tom, but wise words.
We can all learn not to be like Jack.
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..or is it perhaps his Secretary?
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Both.
I interpreted the secretary’s sudden turnaround as fear for her job.
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Yes I see – makes sense.
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This poem hurts. And it’s funny, but I feel a lot of hurt for the secretary. I’m not blaming her, but she had to forego a little bit of her soul.
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While Jack figures prominently in the poem, and the title speaks of his wishful demise, the secretary is really the tragic figure here.
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