I wrote this poem long ago, in my twenties. It’s about my dad. I lost my biological father when I was 5 years old. He was killed at the age of 26 in a car accident. I don’t really remember much about him. But I have always missed him and have felt a special connection to him. When I felt no one understood me, I always knew my dad would have. I am a lot like him. A thinker, creative, artistic, quiet, sometimes moody. I have written several poems, processing the grief and loss that remained unresolved for so many years. Grief bottled up turns to anger, bitterness and depression. This is one of my ways of letting it out, letting go and healing.
If only you could see
how much of you
you gave to me.
If only you were here
we could talk of things
we hold so dear.
Sometimes we are so silent
but yet we’re never still.
We know who and what we are
yet many never will.
If only I could talk with you
so much I want to say.
But most of all I’d ask you, dad,
to guide me along life’s way.
I know you had the answers,
your dreams to share with me.
And yet I am just like you,
I hope that you can see.
Your way of showing the world
just what you felt inside,
you expressed in drawing;
sometimes a place to hide.
And that’s how I got to know you.
I looked long and close
at your way of expressing
what meant to you the most.
You inspire me, you comfort me,
you share with me your love.
And, again, I am just like you.
Can you see me from above?
I love you, dad.
Copyright 1985 Debbie Haupt
Debbie McKisick Haupt 