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.