bottles of memories

you drained the bottle of San Miguel beer

as if it was tap water

showing me, your first cousin,

how you have grown:

loud arguments for women's rights,

with cigarette pack (ignoring the surgeon

general's warning)

& a swagger pose for an 18 year old

i joined you and our cousins 

by grabbing a bottle of beer myself,

proud to show off that I can hold both the beer

& lively talk (a rite of passage as a teen)

the beer tasted a bitter lager to me

but the ice made me gulp 

each swig a little easier & bolder

it was never the bottles of beer though

or uncle's signature pork & beans dish 

that made this family gathering remarkable

our fathers (all 4 brothers) were gathered

around the table, expertly brandishing

the golden beer bottles

(we are poor imitators of their beer rowdiness)

with their eyes teary with mirth

as their wives 

chatted in another huddle, exhanging gossip

our fathers are the heartbeat &

life of this party

it was the jokes & silly advices

(repeatedly ex/changed over the years)

it was the sloppy conversations

(he said, she said versions)

it was the fake quarrels & rousing debates

(challenges issued & done)

my father's belly laughter

(young, rippling of energy)

that echoed in the night 

that i still remember 

long after our fathers

(all the 4 brothers)

have died, 

& yes after our

silbings & 2 aunts have died too

now, you (still a proud 

single first cousin) quit smoking & Scientology 

& rowdy arguments

we don't order San Miguel beer 

but sip our glasses of water with cheers

as we catch up with the lost years

in between 

the chasm is wide

but we warm up in our distinct sing-song vowels-

also, the family jokes still make us giggle

your face is soft sadness of sunset

and my hands are looking more like my

mother's 

as our voices fade, holding on to lost

letters

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Bottled Poetry.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST about what is brewing inside your bottle.  Thanks for the visit and comments.