I grew from your departures.
I was 11 when you left the house,
13 when you left the country,
16 when you left my life.
Or so I thought.
Then at each transition,
I longed to have you there,
To be proud
Of the child you left behind.
Perhaps, you would take me home again.
Now, the departures
Outnumber the returns.
When I was younger,
Your return was my salvation.
Older now, I feel abandoned by my god.
© 1996 Edward P. Morgan III
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ReplyDeleteNotes and asides:
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As you can see from the copyright, I wrote this many years before my father died, though it still captures part of how I feel, and I guess it always will. It just seemed fitting to post it on what would have been his 75th birthday.
Picture notes:
ReplyDeleteI can't tell you exactly when or where this picture was taken, other than at a Navy yard. I believe that is a ballistic missile being loaded onto a submarine tender in the background.
I found it while I was cleaning out his office, along with a number of photos from before he was divorced. The only ones of me or my sister were from before he left the house. I guess I should take solace that there were any of us at all.