A father to my mother
We carry each others traits
But it is one thing to be family,
and another to be friends.
Your wisdom carries me,
as we sing poems of thought.
Interpersonal communication, love, path, all are open for conversation.

You talk of intention for the rest of your life
I ask you what it’s been like to have a partner for 50 years
You remind me I am good enough
I tell you my purpose in a round a bout way

I have separated money from contribution, I explain.
I can do good, but I also must make money.
Maybe they will be connected,
But if not, I will still find both.

When I look back upon my life,
I want to see something I admire.
I am making those memories now.

It’s the small tangible steps, he tells me.
You must see actual actions and take them.
You will find your way.

Tears of reverence build in his eyes.
How can you look at me that way? I wonder.
When I am the one in awe of you.
Aunt Mary was loved, he explains.
In a way that you are.

I have always missed her.
I hope to speak to others as I speak to you.
He says as if it is a connection to being remembered.
I want to understand my grandchildren.
Thank you for reminding me that I can.

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