My father’s ears

It was his ears I held on to when I rode on his shoulders. ‘Pull the left one if you want to go left and the right one if you want to go right.’

One of my school friends asked him why his ears were so big. ‘It’s because I’ve had five children,’ he said.

Each time I saw him or said goodbye we’d embrace so our times together began and concluded with the sound and feel of his ear pressed to my mine.

When the end came he’d lost his fullness of face. Hollowed out, his nose exaggerated, he didn’t look himself any more.

The only thing that was him were his ears which my eyes held until he had gone.

© Shona Main 2012

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2 Responses to My father’s ears

  1. I thought this was beautiful.

    Slightly biased of course as a big-lugged dad.


  2. me says:

    I hope they have you and your ears to hang on to for a long time yet.

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