birthday candles

this poem was written at the end of july 2016, shortly after my dad's 59th birthday. at the time I didn't know that it really would be his last.

His hair is white and withering away
his wrinkles are quite defined
his muscle tone is fading
sometimes his voice shakes
and he cries a lot more than he used to

But he still smiles like he's building something.

Every word he speaks tells a story
always past and present tense
and I can't remember the last time I heard him utter the word "future"

Every statement he makes is a sermon;
he speaks less loudly but more boldly

And every time he says the words "thank you"
it feels like an introduction to goodbye

it's July 14th
So we gather around
singing the same old happy birthday song

And I start to count the candles

57, 58, 59...

59....

59...?

With no sign of 60 anywhere to be found.

The numbness I feel makes time slow down
and I listen to the words of the song
I look at him, smiling, happy
and I wonder what he's thinking

Is he wondering the same thing?
Does this birthday chorus not sound haunting?

A light-hearted song has never made me feel so hollow
A candle light has never looked so dim
The future has never felt this blurry

I'm trying to celebrate his life
but it's hard when I have so much fear... about his...

I just want to see candle #60.
And 61, 62, 63, 64.

Maybe I hate birthday candles
because sometimes they are tricks
Or because sometimes they go out before you get the chance to blow them--
before you get the chance to make your wish
before you get the chance to hope that it might actually come true

But maybe the reason I hate birthday candles this year

Is because a birthday wish should never be an

anything-but-death 

wish

run-on

I have nothing left

no more tears to cry

just salt stains on my hands & cheeks

exhausted, tired eyes

fears of the uncertainties

remind me this is not a dream

although every night when I fall asleep

I pray to God it will be

trivial worries

trivial words

suddenly everything lacks depth

everything lacks purpose

nothing is motivating

nothing seems worth it

because life is just a death sentence--

a run-on we try to make sense of--

and sometimes punctuation comes along

before we've had the chance to understand it

His eyes are growing tired comma

He paces comma

He doesn't sleep comma

He winces in pain when he thinks no one can see comma

People speak to him in a language of goodbyes comma

His words have all become sermons comma

Preaching to the choir that doesn't know how to carry on a melody without him comma

He observes everything so quietly comma

He breathes heavily comma

He kisses my mother comma

He holds her a bit tighter now comma

He holds her a bit longer now comma

He says "I love you" a little bit louder now comma

And I watch it all comma

Just praying that the punctuation comma

Continues to be a comma 

comma

And not a period

comma

Because I need there to be more commas.

There are lessons for him to teach me,

Guys I'll date that he will need to interrogate,

Taxes I need him to teach me how to do...

I need him to see me walk at graduation, for him to say 

"you did it kiddo, I'm proud of you."

I need him to dance with me at my wedding,

and see how happy I am on the day that I marry the man who will always remind me of him...

I need him to meet his grandchildren,

to be able to see into their little eyes 

and hold their tiny hands--

to kiss them and make them smile...

I need him to put me in line when I'm being selfish,

I need him to counsel me when it's time to correct the course,

I need him to push me when I don't know how to move forward,

I need him to be there to remind me what's most important,

I need more commas

I pray that God isn't particular about grammar,

That He'll allow me more commas than I'm likely to get,

That this life sentence can run-on longer than science says it can,

But no matter how many commas you give me,

God, 

I promise I will thank you

for each and every one

reasons I'm afraid I might be in love with you

Fear increases your heart rate,

and spikes your blood pressure.

Your breathing becomes rapid,

shallow, and difficult.

Your judgment becomes impaired,

And you don't make good decisions,

or think logically

about your next best move.

Time slows down,

Nothing feels real.

And when in fear...

all you can do

is feel.

But to me, that sounds a lot like love.

Which is fitting, because actually,

that's the biggest fear of mine.

And I wish I knew why.

(I've only had two panic attacks over this ^)

Maybe it's the feeling

of not being in control.

Maybe it's my fear of heights,

and knowing I have to fall.

Maybe I'm insecure,

maybe I'm afraid I can't be loved.

Or maybe it's the opposite,

maybe I can't love someone that much.

But in fact I think it's none of these,

even though I've feared these things before.

In fact I think the reason might be,

that I realized I am in love once more.

Reasons I'm Afraid I Might Be In Love With You

-I can't pinpoint when it happened.

-My friends are convinced that I am.

-There are only two and a half months of high school left.

-You gave me a chance and I didn't take it.

-The last time I talked to you, I did a dance around my kitchen.

-I told my mom about you.

-I've been listening to my stupid playlist for the last 24 hours.

-I am 100% myself around you.

-You listen to me.

-You care.

-I care.

-You've been walking around in the back of my mind for the last three months.

-I was listening to Taylor Swift yesterday, and I saw your face.

-I made this list.

(Which is perhaps, the most important reason of all.)