Blue Rhapsodies: Poems of a Navy Life

By Nancy Arbuthnot

In brief, compelling vignettes Arbuthnot presents the story of a navy life that spans a “Navy junior” childhood of constant moves and an often-absent father; a career teaching poetry to midshipmen at the Naval Academy; and her recent years as a Navy daughter helping care for her father, the “Captain,” greatly debilitated by a major stroke but still “master and commander.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664174856

Book preview

I

Standing Watch

2011-2017

For my siblings—Hunt, Robin, Laurie, Lynn, Wendy, Kim

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The first desperate call–

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Prothro Siblings, c 2016, collection of author

My sister: At dinner, Dad rising,

from the table, "I don’t feel. . .,"

collapsing, the race to Bethesda—

Why didn’t you call the ambulance?

In ER—Pound! Pound!—

they bring him back

From DC, Maryland, Illinois, Tennessee,

Florida, California, we gather in the ICU,

push for diagnoses—

major stroke, aphasia--argue options, agree

No extraordinary measures—

return next day, heart-startled, IV rolled

away: We didn’t mean no water!

Orders reversed, our heartbeats slow

as young medics boost our morale:

He’s a fighter--he’ll pull through!

Two weeks, three--

Dad’s sitting up, shaking hands, speaking

words we pretend to understand--

The speech therapist chirps,

Blink twice when I point to the face

that shows how you feel!

Dad glares, yells, gesticulates,—

A brain scan, the neurologist suggests,

to pinpoint the areas of distress--

On the operating table

a violent reaction to sedation—

Almost lost him again!

He hangs on

as our hearts pound and pound.

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Night and day, day and night

stars wheel overhead, sun rises, sets--

Navy daughter again, I shuttle between

the naval hospital and 9120

and my own home

and three weeks later Dad stumbles

from the ambulance, home,

all of us collapsing in tears--

Caregivers take over,

dress the Captain in clean shirt and slacks,

comb his hair, his beard--

We almost forget

he can no longer ask us to sweep

the patio, transplant azaleas,

help wash his red Mercedes convertible—

grab that hose there, would you?---,

only Amma gamma gotta? emerging now,

our real father trapped, inaccessible,

though Kaleisha makes a booklet,

Captain’s Words--

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Our mother wanders