One of the most important things I’ve learned in life is that people do the best they can with what they’ve learned. To find that place of compassion for those who have damaged us the most is the healing miracle we offer ourselves. It is then that we learn wisdom from our pain.
A Dime Dropped in the Snow
What does daddy look like?
I don't know...I've never seen him, really
Hanging upside down
from a mirrored tree in a fascinating painting,
staring at people in that French museum
where crowds walk by saying,
"Interesting, but I prefer
paintings of flowers or mountains...
something tasteful.
Don't you as well, Martha?"
And dad just hangs there by his toes,
not saying anything nice.
But what does he look like?
He looks like the nickel he never gave
and the dollar he took away--
Mean and hard as a dime dropped in the snow
filled with more rage
than can be painted or written.
I dig inside my mind to hide
when I think of his calloused hands
and eyes the color of wet cement.
He doesn't like me you know.
He said he never did.
He smiled with satisfaction
and tried to see pain on my face.
But it was gone...
with dreams and worlds of all things lovely
that I once prayed would come to me.
Now they're gone with you, dad.
Though you breathe more
than they ever did
with your gnarled body
guided by friendly hands.
You say what? You love me?
Do you know who I am, daddy?
It's okay.
You left me long ago before I was born
with all the other fish that got away.
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