Moved to Cali to hide away
from those I felt misunderstood
recent events renewed bravery
to stand in places I once stood
to have interactions longed for, needed
with new outlook and healing balm
with hearts opened to peaceful dominion
with prospects now for future calm
Called my daddy the other day,
crying couldn’t be controlled
released decades of words that needed said
he listened lovingly without reproach
I had waited until the puzzle fit
my investigation almost done
he wasn’t the author of most of my pain
that burdens course has finished its run
Every call I’ve made since age 18, everything I’ve asked has been received, all with a sense of entitlement,
disadainful thoughts like
You owe me
Because you were born gay?
You couldn’t conform to society?
My mom was hurt that she couldn’t fix you?
Mormonism made our family a casualty?
We were, but you tried, as much as you could based on the circumstances, and I wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.
Protective of mom to the bitter end, you were the adversary that left her to wallow in raising kids without support, the dad that came along to play, to spoil and dole out gifts and vacations to lakes, but give us back when it was the end of Sunday. Then we moved… to Texas, where me and sis are headed now to see you, ironicially where you eventually landed, but we were far apart for years inbetween and saw you for spurts emotionally empty handed.
Back to the call, we both mourned over the loss of time unrecoverable, saying that hearing our voices hurt so much in between visits you recoiled, isolated, and threw yourself into your private life. You are finally surrounded by family, and now I’m sitting here waiting for my flight to spend time with you unlike any other we’ve spent previously. I love you Daddy, thank you for being there for me when I’ve needed you most.