My Father wears a
Cologne of dirt and sweat,
cowboy hat and boots,
a moderately large belt buckle,
and a salt and pepper mustache.
When he sees me
his face lights up
and he embraces me
engulfing me in his
familiar scent.
"My baby" he murmurs
as his hands smooth my
hair. "Te Quiero Mucho"
he says as his lips make
contact with my forehead.
"I love you too much",
he translates. It feels as if
my heart is going to break
and my eyes well up with tears
"I Love You, Too" I choke.
This is met with another
embrace, kisses on my
cheeks, his stubble scratching
rather than tickling my skin,
and the touch of his forehead to mine.
Once a month for
16 years, this is what
has always happened. But
now the ritual is ended and my
Father's Cologne is only a memory.