It took me three years to learn how to mourn you.
You see, it wasnt saying good bye that was hard.
I never got to.
And it wasnt realizing that I dont remember the exact shade of your eyes,
or if theyre as close to mine as I tend to say.
It wasnt accepting you wouldnt walk me down the isle.
Because it never occured to me that you would.
You’ve been gone for over three years.
But you left way before then.
The last time you saw me I was ten years old,
with gangly legs and gap teeth and too many freckles.
The last time you called me you said “my child”
and I replied “yes Ed?”
Ive spent three years learning how to mourn you.
So I have mourned the high school graduation you did not attend,
and shortly after the bootcamp graduation-you would never have guessed.
I have mourned the childhood you saw in glimpses
and the teenager who became a stranger.
I mourn this young woman you would not recognize,
(except maybe by the shade of her eyes?)
NOT because she is lacking from your absense.
But because she deserved a father’s presense.
It took me three years to understand my grief.
It will take me three more to forgive you.
I have mourned the “what if’s?”
What if you were here right now?
What if I became worth coming around?
What if you saw me grow, and I still made you proud.