Generation Debt

Generation Debt

This is a poem to my dad, who I still miss.

You wanted me to be a success

so you never told me I was doing a good job.

I worked hard and made management

but I never admitted you were my example.

You taught me that men are tough

so you never hugged me or affirmed your love.

I was able to heal my wife’s broken heart

and I think the love we created was beyond you,

though I can’t say I shared much of my treasure with you.

You hid from the pain of your mother’s rejection and flight

so you tried to teach me manly respect instead of filial love.

It’s true that my time belonged to the concrete floor,

but I wonder if I could have spared the family a few more afternoons.

On the other hand, you seemed short on time when I was a kid,

but I admit I was glad we didn’t spent more on your beloved baseball.

I made room for my kids and learned who they are inside

while it seemed you were embarrassed by my sensitivities.

We never had THE BIG father and son talk,

so when you died I still held some of your unpaid IOUs.

As time passed, though, I realized you held some of my unpaid IOUs as well,

but you took my debts with you.