My dad wasn't my dad yet in this pic.
He was in his early 20's fighting a war.
Sometimes I think he was always fighting it.
He loved me.
I loved him.
We just never quite clicked.
The teen years were hard on us both.
Lots of words said that can never be called back.
Hearts bruise so easily.
I wish I could tell him it was all okay
It doesn't hurt any more
but he cant hear me now
and it would be a lie.
I hate to hear people whine about their childhoods.
And it wasn't bad
just not good enough.
so I learned
never hold back
take the extra step
reach out your hand
hold the ones you love close
stay as late as you can for as long as you can
'cause the night is never long enough
we all have to go home.
and we'll be a long time gone.
It's a lovely night on the porch....
planting things makes me think of my dad
he spoke roughly to his only daughter
but his hands were gentle with his plants
all day I coaxed plants from pots into the ground
with the hands he gave me
we grew something together.