Father Figures

The thing is

Over the course of a whole life

Some of us are different people

To different people

Some people know one of us

Without ever knowing

The other us

That only makes an appearance

Under certain circumstances

Around certain audiences

When under the influence

Of

A person

Or a situation

That’s out of our control

That makes us spiral

That makes us sick.

I don’t have warm, fuzzy memories

Of my own father

But I had them (have them)

Of her father.

She didn’t have warm, fuzzy memories

Of her own father.

In her grief

Years later

Still angry over a relationship

That was never to be

That was different

She shared with me

An awful discovery

And it’s tarnishing my own memory

Making me question my reality

His identity

Robbing me of

Those warm, fuzzy memories

I hold so dear.

The next day

She deleted the messages

But it was already too late.

My morning was out of order;

Woke up late

Didn’t meditate first

Signed on late to my Saturday morning zoom

Eight minutes late

Got stuck in the waiting room for another 15

Resorted to poetry

Late meditation

And the hope that she somehow reads this

And that someday

She can heal.

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