“Are you travelling alone?” he asks, concerned
“What time is the flight?
Where will you be staying?
Have you booked a cab?”
“I can handle it,” I say
“I’m a grown woman
I’ve traveled places alone
Its not the first.”
“I know. But it’s always been on work
With an chauffeur driven car
And the company overseeing
This is not the same.”
“Yes,” I admit
Feeling a little nervous
It is a first. “But you’ll be there,” I reply
Confidence enveloping me
“I will,” he says, softly
“But its not the same anymore.”
But for me it is
I feel stronger, knowing.
“Was it difficult for you to get here?” he asks
His eyes lighting up, as I walk in
“How was the journey?
“Did you have your lunch?”
His wrinkled skin dangles as he speaks
And his bones –
I see them through his trousers
like a cloth-hanger they hold his attire
“How were your exams?” he asks his grandchild
“Ok,” she says, stunned into silence
The finger she held to go to school
Now holds on to her as he speaks
“That’s good,” he says
“So you’re happy?”
She nods her head
He pats her head, satisfied.
“It’s good you came
Your mother couldn’t have
made it without you,” he looks at me.
It makes her smile.
It makes me smile too.
Reminds me
How it irked me once
Yet how much it pleases me now
Measured and unsure
Slow and staggered
His every step
He holds on for support
But he checks my ticket
To see the flight’s on time
“Take care of yourself,”
“And the children,” his voice is steady.
I kiss him goodbye
His invincible spirit smiles
It is my armor
My savior, my shelter
Copyright©2020.lifeateacher.wordpress.com. All Rights Reserved.
Eúnoia 
Beautiful 🙂
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Thank you 🙂
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Lovely and emotionally charged Smitha! This poem brought tears to my eyes and tugged at my heart, questioning the so called Almighty once again… why me?
I don’t know dads continue to love even when we grow up, I am not that fortunate for destiny snatched mine away too soon, couldn’t even say a goodbye. Had he been alive, our life could have been much different, we wouldn’t have missed our childhood.
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Thank you so much. I’m so glad it touched you but I’m sorry it made you sad. I’m sorry to hear about your dad. Your life experiences are probably the reason you are different and special. It shows in your writing.
Dad’s never been expressive and over the last few years’ he’s been so obsessed with his own health so much so it was the only subject we discussed. But seeing me flustered made him forget his concerns, this time.
Thank you for trusting me enough to share your feelings. Send you a big, warm hug. It’s a privilege to know you. XXX
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🤗🤗♥️
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This is so amazing, Smitha. It has given me goosebumps.
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Thank you so much Robbie. I was hoping you’d read it today 🙂 XXX
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Beautifully penned smi. Brought tears to my eyes.However big we are dad’s are always protective
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Thank you so much Vineetha. Yes, we fight to prove a point when we are young only to understand later that their concern is their love and not them thinking of us as incapable.
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