It wasn't the week
you and Mom both passed,
or the moment when
my wife had a stroke.
Dad, it wasn't in the instant
they told me my unborn daughter
didn't last through the fight
for her mother's life.
It wasn't the time when I saw
the destiny of the business
I had given eight years to
was ending in catastrophe.
It wasn't even at that blink in time
where I was told my spouse's life
depended on a procedure
they refused to perform here.
No, the instant I became overwhelmed
was when you said, out of your pain,
Mother left me behind because
I couldn't take care of myself.
That was more than 40 years ago,
and to this day, I still deal
with the reflected waves from being told,
in effect, I wasn't good enough to keep.
Dad, every day that I expect
those who love me to desert me,
I hear the ancient echoes
of your bitterness and pain.
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