This is my dad.
He loved us very much.
He loved me the most.
He died.
And I can’t tell him
All of the things I wish
I had told him.
I can’t ask him all of the questions
That maturity has given me the curiosity and wisdom
To know there was so much
I wished to ask him.
I can’t reflect with him
On all of the lessons he taught me.
And I can’t sit with him and laugh about all of the childhood things
We all lived through together.
With him as dad
And us as kids.
But
I can always love him.
