An allegory expressing the sadness of a brother’s death where dad becomes the Caretaker, and his children, priceless masterpieces of God. I often express my feelings about things I can’t control through poetry. When I couldn’t control my father’s response to my brother’s death, I wrote. My dad – on the outside – appeared functional, though I knew that was a front and I don’t begrudge him for it at all. After all, I’m the queen of silver linings, an easy going attitude, and faking it ’til you make it. I apparently get that from him and in most cases it’s helped more than it hurt. The difference between us in this situation is my brother died, not my child. I don’t know nor do I ever wish to know that type of pain. I understood that when he said he had to get healthy to finish raising my sister, in his heart of hearts he meant it. All the while he was digging his own emotional grave, even as he promised me he’d stop drinking and take better care of himself. Because I was still around too even if our relationship was complex. Me and my dad In the […]

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