A tale of forgiveness 28 years after my fathers death |
It took 28 years to visit his grave I wasn't even sure where it was in the cemetery As I stumbled through the sleeping stones My young son in my arms It was Fathers Day and I was called here Not knowing why Just knowing deep inside it was time I found his mother first, sleeping next to his dad and brother then I saw his resting place, his name in granite What took so long I thought Why was I afraid to be here with him Was it because I was afraid to be with him when he walked this earth? It was the loneliness that I had felt when I had him amped up by his passing at age 44 leaving me all alone in this world just two weeks shy of my ninth birthday Years of anger rather than compassion fueled my German stubbornness keeping me away from this day I knew it had to come eventually Hopeful for resolution, asking for peace, wanting understanding Afraid at this time with what I might find deep inside myself I sat and looked down at his stone with my son Chris sleeping in my arms on this warm June day Chris being almost three and the true love of my life, I knew then why I had come To ask for his forgiveness for the anger that I had harbored all these many years He did not want to be the way he was He, like me in later life, was powerless over the way that it turned out Holding my son Chris as I sat there I finally knew what I had missed His love, His touch, His reassurance The things that I had missed so much at eight or nine I held in my arms that day Tears streaming down my face as I looked into my sons' eyes and asked for my fathers forgiveness and felt that it was given I walked away a different man that day My fears subsided, my prayer answered, peace and understanding had come to me that day from my father and my son . |