Editor’s Note: During my early drive to work one recent morning I asked God for wisdom and strength, for the courage to do right no matter what, and for help carrying a very heavy load. When I arrived at my office, there was this poem in my in-box from my precious daughter, Amanda. It’s a bit cryptic if you don’t know what our family is going through, but it’s about my relationship with my dad (falling apart because of his illness) and my relationship with Amanda (the best father-daughter relationship in the history of the world). I burst into tears at the last line. I love her so.
For all the kids who were left wondering, who turn into parents. People give & receive love differently, your child may not be fluent in how you choose to express it. Don’t leave any doubt, words don’t need translating. Tell them every day, until they get so sick of hearing it they just say “I know.” I grew up knowing, I didn’t realize how profound that was until I was older, surrounded by broken adults who never knew. —Amanda Lewis
You say you don’t know what to do, what to say.
Your heart is too heavy, so it starts to pray.
He refuses to listen.
Your heart aches & your eyes glisten.
This man you call father,
Now can’t be bothered.
You wish to speak.
But you are tired and he is weak.
You wish to be heard.
But his memory is foggy & his perspective has blurred.
You need answers to hard questions, such as: “You’ve hurt me & you don’t know your family… Do you even care?”
But you’re greeted by silence & a confused stare.
He then mumbles how “You’ve got it all wrong…”
He says you’re ill-informed & goes on & on.
He is the father & you are the child,
Your claim is invalid & you remain unreconciled.
The long winded lecture then turns into some maintenance “project.”
It always ends this way in retrospect.
You come back home.
And collapse into the couch with a groan.
Defeated, you speak quietly through your hands.
I wait patiently for you to start so I can understand.
“…I hope Your father never becomes like him–a man who strives to hold onto nothing but ego & wealth at the expense of his family. I hope that’s something you never have to see.”
He looks so deflated.
His heart is heavily weighted.
I suddenly notice he’s got more laugh lines around his eyes, and how we have the same chin.
People often tell me we share the same grin.
His silent doubts & unanswered questions leave him falling apart.
My hero who always fixed my “ouchies” now sits with a bruised & heavy heart.
Because his dad never said “I love you” enough.
And I don’t know what to say, because mine never stopped.