(written June 23, 2018)
I see what you did.
It took me a while,
but I’m on to you now.
I thought you snuck out on us
in the middle of the night
while we were getting ready
for the long haul.
You left us.
You left him.
You left us with him.
We were prepared
to take care of you.
We were not prepared
to take care of him.
He was devastated
at the loss of you.
It did him in.
Finished him off.
His mind had to create
a new reality, one where
you were still here.
I thought you gave up,
threw in the towel.
I was wrong.
You stepped aside
for a reason.
“Here he is, kids,” you said.
“This is your father.
Get to know him
as I knew him.
Get to know the man.
Get to know his heart.
You will see why I stayed
as long as I could.
And why I had to go.”
I saw it today,
for the first time,
after 15 years.
Remembering him,
I remembered you.
And finally,
it clicked.
The last lesson
you taught us.
The last act of love.
“Get to know him
and you’ll get to know me.
You’ll get to know us.
And you’ll discover yourself.”
Oh clever girl.