My insides feel what I cannot see. I cannot write about Papa.
I want to crawl inside of me where it’s safe & warm & hollow.
I can’t see the sun; I can’t feel the rain. I’m numb from my head to my toes.
I hear him whistle from far far away. Is he lonely? Afraid? Is he scared?
I want to fix him. I’ll make him be well. Please God, don’t send him to Hell.

He wasn’t bad. He meant no harm. He just didn’t know we were kids.
He was handsome and kind to all of his friends. To please him I ran and I hid.
I tried to be quiet. I tried to be good. It wasn’t always that easy.
When he’d yell “shut those kids’ up!” my stomach would always feel queasy.

When he babied the dog and patted her head I felt my heart ripping in two.
Please hold me just once, I won’t ask for more.
Is that so very hard for you to do?

I’m grown now and yet, I still long for your love. A love you weren’t able to give.
Forgive me for wanting more than you could give.
Please help me to let go and be able to live.
To live, not exist, as you once said to me. I was only existing too!
You left me! You died! You forgot about me!
I was scared. I was lonely, depressed.

You left without speaking. You never expressed a father’s love for his kids.
I guess you just couldn’t. You didn’t know how. It’s sad; all the joy we all missed.

I’m sorry you’re gone. I’m sad for what wasn’t.
Some day I will join you.
I hope you’re in heaven.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Gnome,

There is no substitute for a father's love . . . try as I can my Holy Father does not fill the bill, but He is all that I have. When one desires the physical touch it's difficult to feel His arms encompassing me . . . I know He does and by faith I accept . . . but oh the pain of the loss of a father's love . . .