Dear Dad

He never held out his arms to me
or swung me high
He never sat me on his knee
and told me funny stories
He never tickled me
into a fit of giggles
and never hugged me tight
when I wept

I would have liked 
to squeal with delight
when he threw me 
up in the air
secure in knowing 
he would always catch me

I would have liked 
to hold his hand
and skip along merrily
messily slurping ice cream 
and have him gently 
wipe my grubby hands

I would have liked to have
fond memories 
of wonderful times 
spent with him

I would have liked 
to love him
but to me he was a stranger
brooding, dark, fearful
Not knowing 
what would annoy him
I stayed out of his way

I would have liked to be
Daddy’s little girl
But I never really knew
my father while he lived
and death 
was just another way
of losing him


© 2013 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved