Father’s Day

The faint smell of Old Spice reminds me of my dad,

a constant reminder from my mom every Father’s day,

I often wonder if he truly liked this scent,

or was it a reminder of his obligation as a father?

Shackled and bound by marriage,

did he want this job?

I remember brief moments of him arriving back from business trips,

my sister and I too young to understand the

 

the clacking of children running down the hall would kill any notion of privacy,

as my mom would shoo us away,

I blamed myself for the lack of romance between my parents,

shunned puppy left out on the patio,

I longed for a family where hugs and kisses were accepted as everyday commodities rather than the rare coin tossed and cherished,

I hoped that for every lover I take up with,

Someday, I hope to understand that

I am more than the sum of my parents,

more than their hopes of me being just a progeny.

Part II

Understanding that parenting is a lifelong commitment to yourself and

your child.

I will always be a mom,

I cannot be a dad,

my daughter longed for a dad I couldn’t give her,

I’m sorry I couldn’t tell her back then, that it was more than just

warfare between us,

I left that part of me behind to raise her intact but I feel sometimes I failed,

My own longing for a father left residual traces of something bitter and sour on my tongue,

something she can’t taste but always longed for,

This too, is something I couldn’t give her.

 

 

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