I never had the chance to say
"farewell" to my father on his final day.
There were no signs, there was no pain,
save for the anguish that is mine each day.
If only I knew his day had come,
I'd have been by his side to show my deep love.
My best friend was leaving;
my nightmare had come;
for the rest of my life, no longer a son.
What words could have shown the depth of my love,
or the courage I lacked to exist on my own?
The days now are empty, as
my soul sits alone,
by the stone that marks him in a world dark and cold.
My fear never leaves me, my dependence so strong,
on the father I lived for, now forever gone.
So on each solemn Sunday, as on this Father's Day
I visit him resting in his eternal bed.
I speak to him softly, then I bid him farewell,
with the tears of my sorrow, and the words never said.
(Stephen Samuel Sayad)