Father

I remember  the first time I wrote of you.
I left the broken child you created on all poetry streets. Mourned my innocents for the world to see.
 
I found forgiveness  at 22. Loved you dearly and wholeheartedly. Still saw you as my hero. Still hung onto your every word.  Used you as my bank of wisdom and grace.  
 
I found growth as your daughter at 35..  
Allowed your correction when I was in the wrong
Swallow my pride, bitterness, and resentment.  
Realize you were flawed and so was I.  
 
There's times I wish to truly replay those last conversations.  Hold  a little tighter to your laughter. Hear your voice be it sober or drunk... it would be you.  
 
42 was a tough year . It reminded me of life fragile wings. How quickly  life goes and comes.  
I lost you an hour after talking to you.
 
I had hope the days following my "okay dad let me see what she's talking about". Not knowing that " I love you "would be the last .  
 
October  20 2021 would be a hard day.
It went from learning about your stroke
To telling them to stop the compressions.  
 
They say they worked on you for an hour.  
We were on a family video zoom with your doctors.  
 
No one ever tells you pain hits different when  
 You had   high hopes . They never tell you catching your breathe from that blow take years.
 
Hope was my father ...
My father calling me again
Hearing my father voice
Watching his smile hit his eyes when he was proud.
 
Hope was my father saying Now Cori..
Dragging the I out like a slow drawl .
Hope was going home to fuss at him.  
Leaving messages of me fussing for him to call me when he wake up... when he wake up..
 
 
Hope .. when he wake up..  
Never .
 
It hits you at 120pm that
Somewhere in that month long wait  
That he drifted off to sleep and we held on to him out of Hope... Love.. and fear..  
 
My father was a wise , caring , flawed, and perfect man. He was imperfection and courageous.  
My father was a giant man and I miss him.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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