I didn’t think he cared.
Twice weekly visits
seemed enough for him,
A dinner, a chat, an update
on life and school.
No more, no less.
Neither shallow nor deep.
A hug goodbye, a wave,
the door would shut, we would drive away
and our life would go on.
It wasn’t until years later
in rage, as we crossed
swords and words
that the truth came out.
He’d been lonely, he’d been sad.
Saying goodbye
broke his heart every time.
He hid it behind the man
he’d been raised to be.
A man who holds it inside
and shows no pain.
A man, a family man,
who woke up,
went to work,
wrote the checks
paid the bills
cleaned his kitchen
took out the trash
locked the doors
turned off the lights
climbed the stairs to his bedroom
in a house where he had
no one
left
to protect.
(Dedicated to my father, Michael)
By Alison Patton
copyright January 2015
All rights reserved