Shhh!!!!! We Don’t Talk About That

Now you have to remember these are in the days of old when the worst you had was a 
cold.
Before mental health existed.
No such thing as being ill....in the mind....it was a bitter pill.

Shhhhh!!!! We don't talk about that

Twelve, seven, and six we were, when first mum threw her hands up in despair.
No more  stories in their bed or staying up 
past mum's watershed.
Grandparents in denial 'It must be you 
you're such a trial', and a vague memory of a
bible.

Whispered secrets in the dead of night.
Things children shouldn't hear.
Memories still vivid and clear.
A man in a suit with a briefcase a doctor too “You need to sign this.” he said to mum, and then they were gone.

One brief visit to Ridge Lee I think we had a cup of tea.
We got home from school one day to find
him splayed upon the floor.
We jumped on his lap in delight.
We thought he was back, but he'd taken 
flight.
Escaped for the day to come home and then he was gone.

No such thing as counselling , talking things through.
Just electric shocks and medication “You'll 
get over it, get on with it old son.”
He came home to bed and rested there the 
longest time.
He was our dad, yes and he was fine.

Time passed by and he got better.
He went back to work and took a letter.
“The only job that you can do is cleaning up and making a brew.”
He did this job with pride, but on that day
something inside him died.

We don’t talk about that.... 

© Taylor Crowshaw 2018