Rewriting Memory
I was in town visiting my son one Saturday
When I told him: “later we’ll go visit grandpa”
But time ran out and other plans got in the way
I didn’t call him and that’s always been my flaw
As the week went by, I just went about my way
With work and family matters I just carried on
And it wasn’t until later, on that Thursday
When my sister called me crying saying, dad’s gone
I already knew in my heart his time was near
But I regretted not visiting or calling
After our last fight I only could shed a tear
The mending relationship had been stalling
The last time I saw my father, my heart hurt
I should’ve gone to visit him earlier that week
Instead, I stood there wishing I could revert
I kissed his forehead and my sisters kissed his cheeks
In the version without regret I would’ve called him
We would’ve had dinner that day and laughed again
We would’ve shared one last father and son embrace
I would’ve felt like that one time when I was ten
Every year on his birthday I write him a poem
We have a meal and a beer and give him props
My family gathers and it’s like he never left home
I miss him still so I’ll say – happy birthday pops
Beautifully penned, Wally. What a lovely tribute to your father my friend. I can relate. Excellent write. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you Damian. He used to be the life of the party, so every year we like to eat, drink and be merry because I know that’s what he loved (that and his soccer).