My Father died this morning.

Pale, hardly breathing, unaware of my presence.

Because i wasn’t there.

 

When i held His hand last night,

As He slept,

Memories of half a lifetime flooded me.

Baseball. Glasses of scotch and leather belts.

Teachings and beatings, frequently confused.

Him Finding Religion, lost to me.

Half of His Lifetime. All of mine.

 

And now, a transition to the life beyond His.

my life. and yet, still His.

For i am his legacy. A tribute to

all that He was and nevermore shall be.

 

Perhaps, yet, i shall improve upon his life.

Leave behind children without the scars

That He so graciously gave me.

Again.

And Again.

 

But as i say goodbye,

i shall shed no tears for this man…

Perhaps that makes me the monster after all.