when my dad’s cancer drugs
make him too weak
to lift his arms
he says to my mother,
‘don’t worry’
manages a smile
attempting to be
as luminous as his love
‘everyone dies of something,’
he says with a smirk
he’s the dreamscape who called kids who were not yet his
to ask for their mom’s hand
in marriage
calls me by my chosen name
spent what felt like every childhood Saturday painting my nails and making pancakes in the shape of my initials.
Had 2/3rds of his kids come out as queer and never once questioned us
Why
would a sentient god disappear
a man like that?
it took me half a life to know of toxic masculinity’s existence
because I was raised
by its antithesis.
who now sits five years into cancer
ad the final boss he isn’t going to beat.
sometimes cancer can’t unhappen
sometimes people do.
in my dad’s unhappening,
the number of nodules in his organs
match the number of years I have been alive.
I want more years
but I want them with him.
oncologist noted, “if nothing changes,
6-12 months.” six months ago.
My dad doesn’t believe that
and for once, I don’t argue back.
Keyma said “hope is what we give ourselves when suffering takes it all away”
And who am I to take the ribbon off a gift
that is not mine?
I once envisioned him walking me
down the aisle
gifting me, right?
but now my visions are of myself
fatherless
in a years time
I micro-dose grief
so as not to be completely asphyxed by it.
I get choked up
Every time I leave my parent’s home
I think maybe I should’ve stayed a few hours longer.
Carried the conversation even when it felt heavy
There was, at times, lots of silence
And won’t there be plenty
Plenty of time for that?
Here’s the thing.
I don’t have daddy issues
I have who the fuck am I going to be without my dad, issues
When I catch my reflection I am l
haunted by the likeness
in our faces
What happens when that semblance is the closest I can get to him?
Does anybody know the word for missing someone before they are even gone?