tuesday, a note to my father last night.

dad,

please stop what you’re doing
and watch this video: little person
if you were a young father today
i suspect you’d create something similar
in place of all those film pictures you took of me
thank you for documenting my life
even if i cringe when i look at teenage years captured
i love to look at pictures from [redacted] street
perhaps that’s when we were most happy?
i knew we didn’t have everything (like some of my friends)
but i knew we had everything we needed
i can smell the cupboards in the kitchen while hunting for snacks
or stirring a pot of mom’s red sauce 
the birthday parties with everyone crammed into that tiny kitchen
the fallen pears from the tree i loved to climb
a tomboy with a love for ballet
oh the garden - sugar peas & black-eyed susans
snacking on cumbers from the vine
the smell of the fresh cut grass and your heineken after mowing
the smell of the rain as it ran down the driveway
the crickets in the cellar
remember i captured one - magic was his (her?) name
standing on the toilet, leaning over to see myself in the bathroom mirror
the pullout sofa
a tv from santa for our bedroom with ATARI
michael jackson & duran duran on the tape player (what?)
britsy! i miss her madly
she was the best dog, the best friend a little person could hope for
this isn’t to make you sad
but hopefully to remind you that we had really good times
the four of us
you and mom did the very best you could
i believe that
i don’t know what happened with mom
i don’t think i can figure that out right now
meaning, my heart can’t bear it
sometimes it takes honest quiet to hear
so, i will honor the quiet & take your advice:
keep moving…
i am so sorry that your father is struggling right now
my grandfather, but your father
i can imagine it’s scary for you, his son
because i can’t imagine a world without you
you’ve made sure to be a great father
you know when to be a friend, a mentor
thank you for daring to know me 
i love you, em