Crunchy Water Balloons on Parade

An ode to Tom Hode

I am sorry, so sorry

That I was never unable to meet your expectations, and somehow left you disappointed

That I did not bear the mantle of family in a way that made sense to you

that my attempt to share a path or meditation, prayer and faith was shunned by you because of yoru narrow view of me and the world

I am sorry that you used your religion as your excuse for not opening your heart to me

I miss the day when you would have me "throw em the dark one Hodie"

the time that you called me into your room with Mom and told me how proud you were that I won the Bukaty Award

       to be followed in time by the letter you wrote disowning me for telling you I was living with the woman I loved out of wedlock

      or the time you threatened to "rip that earring out of your ear if I see it" to which every action I had from that point forward was an expression of saying "fuck you" my clothes, my straight A's, my loud music, drinking your cheap all Falstaff, 

Your close heart to me destroyed me...in ways that you never knew....I may not have looked like I wanted your love and approval....

     But I desperately needed your love and approval.....not that of a vacuous God that didn't know me whose shelter you sought when you were afraid

I watched you send away my sister because she was pregnant and refuse to visit her when she was needed you.

 I watched you crush my mother when she felt or experienced something that was beyond your comfort zone.....I heard my siblings' stories about how you judged and shunned them 

You were not my hero....I saw you as the coward you are.........

And then my daughter was born, bearing your father's initials......and I saw

A man who loves children and loves to hold them and cuddle them and tickle them

and I remembered how you would never refuse a hug where you would scrape your stubbly beard on my face

And how every day, no matter how you felt, you went to work so you could support us

and when you paid for us to go to the best schools

and your attendance at mass, on Sundays when we were young and daily, without fail in your last years

And how, like Jesus, you would fall on your way to your Lord, would be helped to your feet, would make the ceremony, and return to home where you sat for 3 days and 2 nights until Mary(Ann) and John would find you, in your own excretion and take you to be healed....and that healing would end in you doing the only thing you ever wanted, which was to be with your all forgiving and loving father reunite with Mom, free of your body and minds trappings.