About growing up into the person you choose to be |
her voice scratched like wool he was gone my heart lept i rubbed my forehead spoke necessary words and hung up the phone made excuses for living and showed up at his funeral dressed appropriately respectfully i made sure to hug away tears i made sure to kiss cheeks i made sure to let them know i care i'm here when the minister spoke i listened soulfully he painted a picture of family he spoke of mine and inside his words echoed.... outsider... but then his family that i love got up, one by one, and spoke and i listened heartfully and i wondered why i did not have the memories it should be easier then i cried they thought i cried for him but i had no memories to share i cried for memories at my father's home where lazarus who did not wake where marthe who did not speak where mary who did not weep i waited for her and i cleaned dishes set out food silenced the dog answered questions laughed shared helped and i discovered that in very silent deeply small gestures he must have cared he touched my future he did his duty, as he saw fit not to be loving but to do what was right buying toys showing me the horse farm and never swearing at me again he who was buffered by his family cared for loved honored obeyed - he taught them and they taught me |