The pain of passing is so sweet, cuts so deep;
Starting with the first breath, the cry of being welcomed into the world;
Carried forward through the years with joyous laughter and warmth;
Sometimes forgotten in the sear of anger and assumed betrayal;
A father’s love never dies;
Sometimes hidden by fear and doubt;
It always shines where it counts;
A gleam in his eye, an extra beat of his heart;
A remembering smile acknowledging past, present and future;
There is no time for a father’s love;
There is only all time, everywhere and now;
A father’s love never dies;
We are but mere mortals struggling to understand;
Make sense of pain and suffering sometimes hand in hand;
Death is a loss oh so exquisitely final;
Reminding us of our own mortality, no more in denial;
That final breath we all must take;
Is but the start of a new adventure to who knows where;
Leaving behind seeds remembering, loving, grieving;
A gift of knowing beyond certainty;
A father’s love never dies.
(In memory of Benja Villalba, father of my Partner who passed away this morning, July 9, 2016, in Foz do Yguazu, Brazi
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image: Author