Shadows of Yesterday
Often I feel jealous of people who still have their fathers present —
Daddies making it into their 70s & beyond. & I wonder why mine is gone. He seemed so strong. I can't bring myself to visit his grave, the last time I went, something inside me broke. I thought I would never stop crying, my eyes would never stop burning, my heart would never stop breaking — & I wondered why he couldn't have lived just a little bit longer.
Just a little bit longer. Why, God? Why did he have to leave so soon? I wish we could have a conversation. I'd like to know about his trials & pains, the things he wished he could've been, & what he had hoped for us. I miss his voice, he could really sing. It’s a shame I will never hear it again, though I've been told by some they hear him when I sing. I know I could convert our old VHS family tapes into DVDs or digital files & see him again on screen, listen to his laugh and sing, be in his presence, & time travel to when he was here. But I don't know if I can stand it, I almost would rather not remember & let all those memories fade into the past.
