without you

I climb.

Each day, I climb.

 

Carrying a sadness

weighing heavy in my eyes

a deep loss

too heavy to hold.

 

And yes, memories filled with

beautiful moments and lessons

even with distance

seeking self-preservation,

you live.

From my morning coffee

and coffee spills

in the way, I withdraw

or say EXACTLY how I feel.

I am him.

 

A legacy blessed to bestow

but damnit, an unexpected absence

making necessary sacrifices

far off-route,

so at least it feels.

 

And I know, we say,

“everything happens for a reason.”

I’ve heard it all—

all the prolific ways

in which we cushion death

I still fell hard.

So no, none of it feels sincere

none of it makes sense

not when you were supposed to be here.

 

On that couch

in your truck

answering that damn phone

doing all things that once annoyed me,

what i’d give to feel again.

 

But here I am,

here we are,

navigating— without you

 

And yes, you are with me— that’s true

morning visits from Blue Jays

to the Bees

and Butterflies

and BIGGER signs too.


But you’re still not, here

not on Father’s Day

not on Christmas

not the day I marry

oh, what I’d give

to have one more dance with you.

 

And now, each day, I climb

into your truck

spill a little coffee

wipe my tears

and carry all you left behind.


Writing this was overwhelming. So, here is this disjointed poem, if you will.

Seven months without you. I miss you dearly Dad.

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Strangers in Death Valley