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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1732858-Memories-of-Goodbye
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by Starr Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1732858
Working title as it's difficult to really create one yet. Maybe another day...
My daughter and I had drifted apart.
We both felt a pain within our heart.
At home there seemed nothing to say,
not since her father, my mate - passed away.

I tried to move on, move forward he said.
After the accident, as he lay in a hospital bed.
It wasn't fair, we'd had only a short time together.
The service was short and we had good weather.

Though I hardly took notice of who'd come,
I felt like I was falling, my daughter seemed numb.
Not a tear from her eye did I see from the start.
She'd hide at home and from it would dart.

Then I noticed her wearing a drab, baggy shirt.
When I told her to toss it she looked at me hurt.
The gulf grew between us, I didn't know why.
At night, we both would have a good cry.

But to honor his wishes, I gave it a go.
I started to clean up and clear out my woe.
Packing up memories, tossing out stuff.
But my daughter refused, she just left in a huff.

We went out shopping, to get her some things.
I got her nice shirts, pants and three bangle rings.
Things seemed better, she actually seemed happy.
But she still wore that shirt that looked totally crappy.

I asked her to find some things that I could cut up for rags.
The ladies group was doing a cleaning, so I set out a bag.
Later she put out some old clothes in the hall.
But it wasn't there - Why did she keep that old shirt at all.

One night as I was checking things, as I do before bed.
I peeked in on my daughter and noticed by her head.
A photo that I'd not seen in a very long time.
Tears began to fall as the old clock downstairs chimes.

The young man in the shot, all grinning - covered in dirt.
Was wearing the very same thing as my daughter - that shirt!
It was his lucky jersey, which had won many a game.
A part of her father that my daughter had laid claim.

I dug through several boxes and found some things for her.
I put them on the kitchen table, though my vision did blur.
For her to find them when she came down that morn.
I wanted to repair the bond we shared, which I felt was torn.

When I came home later, my daughter was waiting for me.
We sat together for hours, going through all there was to see.
Memories gathered up in photos, letters - Husband, child and wife.
Everything that had been our bits and pieces of life.

So now we treasure what we had, but we do as he always said.
To keep moving forward every day and live on, as he'd have led.
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