Yesterday I went to see my dad,
we’ve struggled in the past,
to communicate and share.
When my grandad left us recently,
worry and internal strife rose up,
within him and me.
He has a slew of diffculties,
both now and in the past,
my mother has her own proiblems,
these burn us quite often,
but my dad has been crushed, repressed,
and stifled by far too many things.
I want to express this to him,
or at least be more present to support him,
but I’m not the usual sort to do that.
I pushed him to leave his room,
come wander the wistful avenues of the graveyard,
where my grandy lays silent.
We even went for a beer,
had a chat or two,
all I could think during and after,
was how awkward we both felt.
Thinking on that further,
and past the idea of me just projecting,
why does it matter?
It will be difficult, odd and strange,
we don’t talk, when we do,
it’s vague,
we don’t have shared hobbies,
our interests and lives are just in different lanes.
I think I have concluded,
with apprehensive confidence,
that this exchange and interaction was useful,
positive and a solid step forward.
I want to be more available for him,
to alleviate some of his strain,
I’m just scared that he won’t think like that,
or consider returning the same.
The only way I can know though,
is if we keep on trying,
if things don’t work out,
then we found that out for ourselves.
Hopefully I can build a genuine relationship with him,
I believe that will bring me joy,
it will even help me understand more.
I’ve seen him shrink away,
agree without a fight,
I understand it,
I’ve seen it,
experienced it,
lived it.
My escape was swift,
he doesn’t have that choice,
so all I can do, is exactly what I think this is.
Support him selflessly,
with a chance of reflective gain.