I Find on Bethlehem Evidence of Our Passing
“In genetic counseling specifically, valuing patient autonomy expresses respect for the emotionally complex and nuanced nature of decisions about reproduction, pregnancy management, living with a genetic condition, and raising children with special needs.”[1]
I’m jogging in the cold toward Candlelight Park,
another trial for my old cross trainers.
My wife and I are in a post-Christmas funk:
giftwrap torn, casserole burnt, the house choked
with smoky silence. But out here, solo,
I lope with gusto. At the park, I hit the paved trail,
see twin girls scrunched in a pink Barbie Jeep, a velvet
ribbon blooming from its hood. What a gift.
The Jeep spurts forward with maniacal whine.
I sidestep just in time. One kid’s eager, the other
bored, their father plodding sadly after.
Their severed moods could be a metaphor
for something I can’t face. Lawns sport
nativity scenes: inflatable animals, trumpeting angels,
strange babies reclining on hay, their tiny arms
spread to everything. I jog on. OK, I’ll say
it: my wife wants a child, but I’m afraid.
Side street, bridge, and soon I’m lost
in my own subdivision, shiver and ache, the sky
smooth and blue and everywhere the same.
By a ditch, a fat squirrel kneads the earth
to hide an acorn. He spots me, bolts. The inescapable
is buried in our DNA, those pesky recessives
that won’t go away. I trot on and on and recognize
nothing. Days pass. A lifetime. At last,
a familiar sign says Bethlehem Ave. I see
a plastic poop bag flapping on asphalt. Wait, I know
this poop bag, crinkled and white like a fresh diaper.
My wife must’ve dropped it. She’s somewhere
nearby, walking our dog. A fine mutt, we agree.
Years ago, she rescued him from certain death
in a shelter in Shiner, Texas. Now it’s my job
to scoop his food, keep his bowl brimming
with water. She depends on me for that much.
Slowing to a stroll, I decide to keep an eye out.
I resolve to make sure our two paths cross.
[1] Jamal, L., Schupmann, W., & Berkman, B. E. (2020). An ethical framework for genetic counseling in the genomic era. Journal of genetic counseling, 29(5), 718–727. https://doi.org/10.1002/jgc4.1207
Love this! There’s something about the line….. “another trial for my old cross-trainers.”……that sets the tone for the rest of the poem. It establishes trust and vulnerability! And then, I love the way the author introduces the theme of genetic planning: with twins girls playing in a pink, Barbie Jeep. His openness concerning he and his wife’s recessive DNA and the frank admission of fear come later. Very clever. I also love how the reference… Read more »