Just me and my dad.

Me

and him.

There we were.

*

Did he know who I was?

Was he wishing for someone else?

*

so raw

so exposed

so frail

mute

*

I cried for all the moments

he was’t there for me.

A torrent of angry tears

surging through time

*

And here I was

at the end of it all,

not the smart one,

 not the pretty one,

 not the one who loved him most.

*

He lifted his eyelids,

 and softly patted my hand.

Caught off guard

I blurted out everything

I never got to hear.

*

“I’m right here with you”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t be scared.”

“You’re doing great…”

*

“…I love you.”

*

His body tightened up,

 hazy eyes opened wide.

He urgently clutched my arm.

I kissed his clammy forehead,

peered straight through

his translucent gaze.

*

And

in that place..

not here,

but not quite there

 uncovered the dying man’s soul.

*

“I know you love me dad .”

*

The healing came,

So very late,

but just

in the nick of time.

*

And there we were

just me

and my dad,

waiting for eternity

together.

Terminally_ill_fac_2271159c

11 comments

    • I wrote this right after my dad died as I reflected on how ironic it was that I just happened to be the one who was with him as he died. It was the most deeply personal event my dad and I ever shared; (not sure we had shared any before that.) It didn’t dawn on me until later how important it was to have that experience. We were both set free.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. This is stunningly beautiful, Cindy … heartbreaking, but beautiful. I am in awe of your writing, and of your generosity of spirit. Thank you so much for sharing this.

    Liked by 1 person

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