Native in the hearts of your children you are.
Embedded deeply in their soil, spawning fertile seeds only to bid farewell too soon.
Your roots firmly rooted,
solidifying your solid stance. Imprinted your features in all of us, all just sketches of the you you used to be.
They tell tales of an antique casanova who once was,
a man who loved dearly for an eternity that lasted a few heartbeats.
I used to draw you in the margins of my notepad,
pretending I remembered more than your smile.
But I was fond of the man who took part in my creation,
the man whose name I carry with pride,
the man who gave me a family,
the man my mother fell for.
Words I never uttered come close to mind,
I'd mean them if I said them out loud.
But here, among bent, wilting trees you lay, forever.
We're standing on the ground reserved for souls bygone, transfusing memories of you in one beautiful picture.


We love you,
I love you


Here's to you, father.

**18/02/1961--01/10/2009