(prompted by a free-writing exercise, includes bits of things I’ve written before.)
I don’t mind anymore that you died when you did.
It was too much for me at 6-years-old,
but now, I can take it.
It is better that you went when you did.
Death elevates, and you are greater for it.
Oh how they glorify you Daddy, they speak with such fondness.
You will always be the hero.
And I will never have to hate you
for not accepting the choices I make,
or the mistakes I swopped spit with.
You are unsullied to me Daddy;
Generous, buying me talking dolls and magnetised chess sets.
Erudite, leaving behind the library I feed off.
You, with your Bob Marley ties and feathered fedoras, you are super-cool daddy.
Oh how they love you Daddy, they remember your softness.
And I’m a sucker too, like that.
I’ve inherited your ears;
yielding sponge, soaking up sob-stories,
Absorbing the fabled and for-real.
I no longer grudge what you’ve passed on to me.
This bold nose,
and bolder-chin,
these little eyes,
It’s like you had to go so I could take your place.
Beautiful…gets me thinking, now that I’m a father, how I’ll be in my daughter’s eyes when she grows up (if we see those times together).
May you be united with him in Jannah, and have the chance to know him without any of the defects that you would have in this world.
Salaams Saaleha, this made me tear…brought back much of my own fond memories. Thank you for sharing this.
Do hope you well, thinking of you stax!