poem
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John Francis Elliot, my father, died twenty years ago on this day: Where were you at my soccer games? Where were you at my high school graduation? Where were you when I graduated college with honors? Where were you when I joined my soul with my wife in marriage? Where were you? Where are you…
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A child of five years I was Sitting, waiting, confused. People whispering in hushed tones; People crying with sorrowful groans. A child of five I was; Lifted up, looking at, and wondering why Everyone was watching Daddy sleep. “Why is daddy sleeping?” I asked. No response. I touched his face; I kissed his cheek. He…