Dear Dad

I can’t stand that all the stories I’ll want to tell you

Will have to be whispered to the sky

Instead of into your ear

And I can’t stand that when I wrap myself in blankets of memory,

Comfort is followed by sorrow, love by missing.

And I can’t stand that I know the answer to,

“Can humans run out of tears?”

Because I googled it twice.

And I can’t stand that I had to write your obituary 30 years too soon,

And I can’t stand that I wrote it in past tense.

And I can’t stand that Alan and Laura

Is just Laura now,

And that just Laura had to buy a casket and cemetery plot,

And had to fall asleep

In a bed that’s now too big.

And I can’t stand that you won’t get to hold my children,

To toss them in the air,

And read their favorite children’s books.

And I can’t stand that my children won’t know

How it feels to be loved by you,

As I am loved by you.

And I can’t stand that you aren’t going to call

As you edit photos,

Hoping, instead of music, to listen to the sounds of your family,

Because you loved nothing more.

But, Dad, I hope you know that I would feel all of this pain,

Over and over again,

Just to have you as my dad for even one day.