Skip to main content

Dad (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)



As a child I held you in awe.

I watched from your shadow the esteem you held my mother in and the romance in her eyes.

From my sensitive perspective you were always larger than life, a man beyond 

my comprehension.

Your presence was constant, our role as your family never questioned.

From my very first memory, you were there and we belonged to you.

As I grew through adolescence, I drifted from your shadow to a corner of my own and 

confusion overwhelmed me.

I cannot bear to think of how much of your character I missed out on knowing during those 

dark years

and despite my rebellion, still I saw my mother glow and I knew that you were good and 

eventually admitted that you were right.

As a young adult I quietly asked admittance back into your life and you rejoiced. Again, a man 

beyond my comprehension.

I worked hard to get close to you from that time on and never did you let me down.

Your response made me want to be a better person, even a rational one.

And the prouder I made you the more excited I became.

With the birth of my son, I saw a different man in you.

No longer a giant in my midst, you became the man of joy, love, and devotion my mom had

always known you to be.

I saw a gentleness in you, a carefree absolution that left me in a different kind of awe.

I allowed myself to feel secure with you and as usual you never let me down.

When we last spoke, you told me how much you loved me and I knew you were saying 

goodbye.

And although I was crumbling inside, I told you of the honor I felt for you, the admiration I held you in and the hope that my son would grow to know it too. Your last words to me were "Thank you."

I found it incredulous that you should be thanking me because I would not be who I am without 

you.

You showed me what a man was meant to be, a selfless father, devoted husband, adoring 

grandfather, and a strong and brilliant presence.

You are the one I should be thanking. I never asked to be rescued, never dreamed I'd be worthy 

and you saved me anyway.

Daddy, you are the strength of my heart. You made it whole and because of you, I will never 

give up. I will never ever give up.

Comments

  1. Very touching and beautiful words <3 May he rest in peace. ~Hiba~

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ash Wednesday (Brian Falcon - New Orleans, LA)

  It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far more i

Louisiana Words Remembers Jorge Arturo

There’s nothing that hurts more than when we lose someone from our Louisiana Words family. But, the beauty of our writing movement is that the words of our loved ones live on with us.   On June 20th, 2023, Louisiana Words Allstar, Jorge Arturo, moved on from this world leaving our hearts broken. He was a charismatic and talented human being. Jorge resided in New Orleans, LA and had been active on Louisiana Words for over a year. To honor Jorge’s life and work, we will be sharing his writing and live performances all Summer 2023. Please help keep his spirit alive by sharing his work. We know that Jorge’s words will connect with our readers and we hope to keep his spirit alive.  Jorge’s first submission: “The Dog Show” debuted on February 6th, 2022 and is his most successful piece to date. In 2022, Jorge spent 10 weeks in the top with “The Dog Show,” “Weavers,”  “They Say Love Kills, This Time It Really Did,” and “If Hell is Real, It Looks Like an Airport.” His last piece was “Fairy Tale

Nobody Said There'd Be a Day Like This (Sam Ray - New Orleans, LA)

  I know how this should be:  I've seen it, you see, In soap operas, Movies. Your eyes are closed, As if in sleep. Perfect peachy skin Atop a snow white pillow  Under flawlessly matched sheets. The heart monitor, Quiet bleeps. The ventilator, A steady hiss. None of that is this. Your eyes Stuck open  Seeing without sight Yellow sclera Dumb tears streaming. Tubes, taped to your face  Delicate skin torn Where nurses Repositioned them  To feed you To heal you You never liked being told What to do. Your whole torso spasms Spastic, Every 40 seconds. A machine  Forces your lungs to act. Your hands are warm From hemodialysis  But don't respond  When we each grab one Give it a kiss. We spend the day  Brushing your hair  Telling stories  Singing  songs. Praying prayers. You're not there. Hospital staff Are more lovely  If less pretty  Than on TV. When the time comes  They gently walk us From the room Close the curtain  Remove the tubes Close the eyes. We resume our positions Your bo