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A Father's Plea Thirty-eight years ago I held your tiny hand and felt so proud. I had a son, and felt honoured. Today, it's been thirty years since I've held that hand and yet, I still feel so terribly proud. Proud to know that you've made your way in this world, Yet terribly sad not to be with you. Nothing can make up for lost years Empty years on my part I feel anguish that I could not be part of them Your growing years. Oh sure there were brief moments of meeting, Brief as in the quality of time spent. I apologize. I was only doing what I knew how to do at that time. There is a saying, "Life is too short." Too short for what I ask? Without intoning guilt I want you to know before I go, I want to hold that once tiny hand in mine once again and kiss you and hold you tight and tell you that I love you. No blame, no blame. Is it selfish of me to feel this way? Is it selfish of me to feel empty? Is it selfish to want to be with you and tell you how I feel? Will you let me do that before I go? Will you let me hold that once tiny hand again? My tears flow freely. I am overcome and overwhelmed I feel sorrowful! I feel anger. Yet - there is always hope (Hope, N. an expectation that what one desires will happen) (Aside - I was always taught never to expect anything) And so I ask, there is always hope, isn't there? To feel that boys hand in mine Once again. |
Additional Notes:
These are my true feelings. I am allowing the public to look in.
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