Family

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Dad, you passed from this life
at the age of fifty-six.
My son, Jason, was the only grandchild
you knew; he was only four.
Only two of your three daughters
got to hold on to your arm
and walk down the aisle.
You have two more grandsons,
Eric and Alan;
they never got to go fishing
with you or to ballgames
or have you watch them blow
out the candles on their birthday cakes.
Mom is still the same strong rock.
You will always be her only love.
I suppose that some people are meant
to be together until
death steals one away;
others, like you and mom, are
meant to be together for eternity.
As for me, dad, well, even after
all this time,
I still miss you with my whole heart.
I think of you when we have a
family celebration,
and when there happens to be
an empty chair next to me.
Sometimes, I swear I can smell
your Old Spice aftershave,
and when that happens, I close
my eyes and remember you.
I know you're in a better place
but I miss you in this place,
here with us.
Today, I will not go out
and buy you a gift,
mom won't bake a cake for you,
and there will be no singing.
I will, however, buy flowers,
place them on your grave
and whisper
"Happy birthday, dad."

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