Dear Dad
If you appeared daily in the majority of my life
why does it feel as if I’ve lived ten without you?
Drowning in the tears of each of the last three years
How absurd it seems to be writing you a letter
I should be able to do one better
hug you tight and let down my guard against the world
but we’ve both discovered that a world without walls
will be our final resting place
I’ve compiled a list of questions
an impossible array
of imaginative scenarios
where the question asked most of me
wasn’t if I was okay
Where were you
each time my name was called
an award stamped with gold
handed to me, the dabbler in shame
Where were you
when anything at all would’ve done to stop the pain
And how come I didn’t realize
you weren’t really alive
my last words exchanged with you, a soup of lies
Did you lock yourself in a dark room when you cried
I only ask now that I too
stand in these very shoes
cast out of lead
entrenched in the sticky mud of relentless defeat
dripping with “I told you so”s and “don’t worry”s
because how could anyone possibly understand
But somehow you did —
you took lazy Sunday mornings by their rays of sleepy light
and placed them on the griddle
splintering wintery weather’s despair straight down its middle
it didn’t matter much if my dreams grew beyond my reach
because you lifted me onto your six foot shoulders
picking each one like a ripe peach
my years numbered five
when you took me for a drive
the redolent aroma of steaming breakfast sandwiches
and tall tales of treacherous trials —
complete with pterodactyls roaming the landscape
of my wondering and wandering thoughts
filled our car with youthful freedom
put on pause by an elementary bell,
never again to be restarted
but you never forgot how to dream
from future husbands and two story mansions
to adventures under the sea
nothing seemed out of our reach
I was your biggest fan
never knowing why I had to root for you
not realizing that a cruel and unforgiving East Wind
eventually snatches all those we love —
no talk of who or what existed up above
there was no higher power
than you and me — we and us
we held our own and explored
the catastrophes of candy corn pancakes
we danced on summer’s dying sun
as your famous baby back ribs were lifted from the grill
sampling spears of pineapple
in the same shade of star I could no longer be for you
Not for a single second did I imagine
that I’d be searching for you
in every coach, teacher, friend
I didn’t want to wish my reality pretend
yet here I stand, at what may seem like the end
No one could have guessed
you’d be long gone before your mother
who died of a broken heart
we had no way of knowing
you wouldn’t be here
when your little brother lost his valiant battle
against the monster in his throat
I wish you could’ve been here
when my heart broke
Without a doubt you would have
reached for your shotgun
polished and ready to aim
I just didn’t know it would be at your own temple,
leaving a life unfinished
a stately proclamation interrupted in its most crucial line
So I’ve compiled a list of questions
an impossible array
of imaginative scenarios
where hearts weren’t hopelessly shattered
time stood stiller than a statue of stone
where my eyes don’t well with tears
when I see a little girl tug on a man’s pant leg
glancing upwards with doe eyes
mouthing “Daddy, I love you”
three words I can never again imagine saying
But nothing can outshine
the sparkle in that little girls eyes
the same sparkle that kept my dreams alive