I am scared
of what waits for me
over the horizon.

I stand on the edge,
looking tentatively
into the black abyss
that will soon engulf me.

‘Please.’
I whisper, ‘tell me,
will I find someone
to have and to hold,
to grow old with.

Tell me,
Beyond the blur of tomorrow
will I succumb to the
pressures of the people,
letting my dreams wither and die.
Or will I raise anarchy,
so that my dreams may fly.

I know,
I will lose many,
friends, foes and family
and I grieve
for the loses to come,
for I fear the day
I will have none.

9 years ago
your son was 9, you were forty-two
your wife was nearing forty

I was eighteen
daughter 1, fourteen; daughter 2, thirteen
and daughter 3 was only 6

we've experienced anniversaries,
birthdays, funerals
(my dad, my grandpa, my papa)

breakups, and new boyfriends
(just with your daughters, really)

graduations, retirements,
family arguments
chaos and heartbreak induced by alcoholism,
(and now years of sobriety)

first home purchases
(your daughters and myself)
(your son is living with me this summer)

and a pandemic...

much has happened since June 17th, two thousand and sixteen
but the biggest thing yet
will be this Saturday
June 7th, twenty twenty-five

daughter 1 is twenty-two, now
and in three days she gets married
your son is eighteen, now
and he will walk her down the aisle
(he told me he cries whenever he thinks about it)

your wife is nearly forty-nine
she will be there with her boyfriend
(they moved in together, in the house they built)
(they're both sober)
(she referred to him as her husband the other day)

daughter 3 is fifteen
(she told me she doesn't really remember you)

I am twenty-seven, now
and I will read a passage from the Bible at your daughter's wedding -
(just like I did at your funeral)