My brother walked me down the aisle
On the day that would make me a woman.
My father wasn’t there,
couldn’t be there.
Cancer took his life
only the year before, but
he was a relentless
prisoner of alcohol,
leaving my family in shambles.
The screams are still fresh in my mind,
Never home, with one love in his life
And it wasn’t us.
In and out of our lives he walked, making
his back seem more familiar than his face.
Good memories replaced by those of
hate and destruction, changing the man
I thought I knew.
My mother loathes his existence, even
today, after his death.
But I can’t hate him anymore.
I needed him that day.
I needed him there,
Vodka aside, with me, in my moment.
Holding my hand,
convulsing with joy.
Head held high as evil stares bore away his paling skin.
Lifting the veil for a kiss,
Welcoming the new man in my life.
Crying, as he whispered
“You’ll always be my little girl.”
I would forgive all he had done,
love him with his mistakes.
And on that day of days
I wish my father was there.
Really there.
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