Revisions of Me

Dad

Once when I was small and you were tall,

You held me when I cried before you were beyond my eyes.

I didn't have long enough to know you, but you left me things.

Remembrances of you: my name, my childhood home, collections I both a-bore and adore, stories told from those you held dear till some of them too were no longer here.

You gave me a universe with the books you left behind. My retreat when the world turned unkind to a silent one.

A secretly funny one, someone who I hope the world sees as kind even when I feel I'm not enough and incomplete.

I was never intended to have you in my life for long and I can't say whether that was good or bad.

With friends and strangers I've seen it go both ways.

But sometimes, somedays, I begin to wonder if both of us slightly broken human beings, could have leaned on each other and became the best version of the men we might have been.

I hope you recognize me when we meet again I'm no longer quiet, no longer small, no longer who you knew at all.

No longer sneaking candies from your pocket that you placed there for me to take.

Mom says the last words I said to you at your funeral were, "Uppy daddy let's play."

I can't miss you when I can't remember you, but I miss the idea of you. I built a million worlds and summoned so many imaginary friends and even made some real ones. But to have a you in my life, might have been nice.

Dad is just a word that holds ideas, hopes, and dreams. I didn't need all that I just needed another human being who at least was half of me. Half a poet, half a bookworm, half a liar, half a story teller, half a mile from normal, but all of you and mom.

Rest easy dad I'm still trying hard enough for both of us. Mom is here and grandma too. I'll continue to take care of both of them for you.

Love your son,

Joe