That Peace

October 23, 2012

My father started writing poetry at the age of seven in his homeland of Trinidad and Tobago. After nearly 60 years of work, in 1990, my father published the first of his two books of poetry. This book, From Heart to Heart was his coming out party, a collection of all the moments that compelled him to drop everything to put pen to paper.

When he passed away in September of 2002, he left behind an extensive collection of poems. He published a second book, Love Massage, still leaving a substantial amount of work in his small notebooks and on pages left in the typewriter. As a family, we have preserved those works and from time to time I look at them to find their wisdom, their timeless nature. It gives me a distinct feeling that my father is still counseling from beyond.

Amazingly, the day my father passed away, it was the last game of the regular season in 2002. We were playing against the then Florida Marlins and I was two hits shy of getting 1000 hits for my career. What made this moment divine was what had happened before the last game. My manager, Larry Bowa, didn't have me in the lineup the second of the three game series against the Marlins. I was at 996 with two games to go. Then Pat Burrell wrenched his shoulder sliding into home during game one. I came in off of the bench and went 2 for 3 with a homerun, raising my career total to 998.

So with one game to go, I was facing Carl Pavano and the Florida Marlins, two hits to 1000.

I was in that zone, that place where it truly is you against you. When your opponent is just on the strings of a divine plan. Where what you believe to be destiny trumps nervousness and doubt.

I would get hits in each of my first three at bats to reach 1001. The game would end just before 7:15pm, and my father would pass away a short time later at Hackensack Medical Center in New Jersey. I would bury my father with the ball for my 1000th hit.

When it came time to choose a poem from his archives to reflect his life, my mother went through his books and found this one, and I still can't stop reading it. It says so much in so little space and time.

I hope you enjoy his work.

That Peace Within

I do not fear,

Because I do not truly understand

What is my boundary here on earth.

I’ve lost the pow’r now

To estimate real danger and the dreaded.

I feel no pain nor mental anguish…

I am just numb to everything you think

I ought to fear.

Still, I can feel for all that you call

Spiritual, not earthly.

Do not call it mere innocence,

As if I could be guilty too.

It really is that peace within

That all men long for,

But are afraid to court.

I have found peace, thank God,

And that is good.

When your turn comes,

You shall embrace it too.

By Cecil E. Glanville, my father