The Gift

My Father came to me --
visited me in the early morning.
He appeared as a young man,
hair: black and full,
face: clean-shaven,
a big smile, a hearty laugh.

There was joy in his voice;
an aliveness I'd never seen before
in life.

Arriving now, from the Land of the Dead,
he stood before me
with a young man's
heart,
vital and fresh as a new day.
He was happy to see me -
happier than I ever remember
seeing him before.
He brought gifts.
But more than that,
he brought himself - fully;
showing up in Death
unlike he ever had in Life,
as if to say:
it was all
an act:

a performance
of violence and rage,
of neglect and lack;
forcing me, his son,
to dig
deep -
and then
deeper,
and then
deeper
still -

to find
the man
I would become one day,
honoring my family,
my children,
my wife.

It was as if he said,
"All that before?
It was only to get you to
here -
to the Love."

He handed me a gift
and added,
"This is for you."