Remembering Uncle Ivan

When Uncle Ivan fell ill, I started writing a poem, maybe more to myself than to him, and when he passed away, I wrote him a last little verse, and put the poem aside. I just came across it today, and thought maybe with the passage of time, it would be all right to put it on the family site in remembrance of one of my favourite people of all time.



To my dear Uncle Ivan,I have heard you are sick,
I can hardly believe it is true.
You could always enliven all our lives with a trick—
Is there not one last trick you can do?

How can comic turn tragic? How can this really be?
Can’t we give you another encore?
There’s a last bit of magic that we all want to see—
Just to see you get better once more.

I will always believe that the magic and art
Never did on deception depend.
It was not up your sleeve. It was pure sleight-of-heart,
And this heart doesn’t want it to end.

I remember the banners, the finale sublime,
An explosion of ribbons and sticks.
Please don’t think it bad manners if I say it’s not time.
Put them back in your bundle of tricks.

…

Let the magic continue, all the warmth and surprise,
In these days of remembering when,
For the magic was in you, and I just close my eyes
And the magic is mine once again.