When he died he took with him many titles.
Once a husband,
friend and neighbor,
and most of all...dad.
My mother so broken barely holding back tears,
like a child who’d been bullied,
left alone by her peers.
He'd been her first lover, her first taste of sugar, her hero, her future, her world.
My brother so rigid like the coffin
was his instead of our father’s...
Jaw clenched, fists balled up so tight,
my brother was ready...steady...fight!
But the fight was long over, lost by dear dad,
our once fearsome foursome down to three, all we had
were the tears racing and burning and tickling our faces,
like salt water does when it dries and leaves traces...
Traces of moments
now long disappeared...
unicorns, tooth fairies,
even things once feared.
Gone now six years from our world as we know it.
Never forget...the salt stinging and piercing things missing and taken,
my father now gone, so are the tears on our faces...
belong to the world disappeared, leaving traces.
When I disappear
I will see him and ask,
ask him what world we are in,
what this place is.
RIP Daddy, 6/14/2003