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.
But as i say goodbye,
i shall shed no tears for this man…
Perhaps that makes me the monster after all.