I COULD NOT WEEP FOR HIM

 

I could not weep

When he was diagnosed

And I feared the worst

Or when the false smile appeared

And he feared it too

And put on a brave face

 

I could not weep

As I sat at his side

His hand once as strong as atlas

Now to weak to grip

Weak like a babe

More so

 

I could not weep

As I watched the frown

Furrowing his weathered face

Grey, expressionless

And as his frown faded,

As the morphine took control

 

I could not weep

As he lay motionless,

Breath shallow

Silent, almost

But for the occasional groan

Beneath the morphine

 

I could not weep

At his deathbed

As the monster within

Crept through his organs

Hastening the end

For him and for itself

 

I could not weep

As his muscles relaxed

And the pain was no more

As he exhaled his last

And his soul passed

When he was at peace

 

I could not weep

Not because it wasn’t macho

Nor for lack of love

It was perhaps numbness

Or a need to be strong

For family, others

 

I could not weep

When my father died

When he released his grip on life

And I kissed him goodbye

I felt only relief

That his suffering had ended

 

I could not weep

Not even at his funeral

When all who loved him gathered

And we shared memories

Even when the curtains drew

I could not weep for him

 

Fourteen years later

On a cold December morning

I held my first born son

And amidst the tears of joy

I wept for him

As I held his grandson