at a time when
children are victimized
into believing
their parents are responsible
for everything bad
in their lives––
i am filled with the blessing of
being your son.
i can smell
the orange juice
you squeezed over
my grated carrots,
the endless trays of
potato pancakes,
& dad's chocolate-whipped-
cream birthday pie.
how can i thank you
enough for the allergy shots
you couldn't afford or
the clarinet
i never learned to play?
i cannot forget how
you drove
an oil truck in the war
& taught me how
to park a car.
& where would i be
without your willfulness?
¶
you were always a
leader,
of the cub scouts,
the boy scouts, the PTA,
of 1,000 world war soldiers
who saluted you.
there was
laughter,
stories of “Happy”
the dog, Dr. Fry, or the
“pregnancy chair”––
even the pope sat down
to laugh beside you
at the end.
when i go to sleep,
i miss you.
when i wake up in the morning
i miss you more.
there will never again,
in the history of
this universe, be
anyone
just
like
you.