I observed my father as he sat.
Same chair he’s been sitting in
Every afternoon for years, watching television.
I noticed he was no longer watching it. His
Eyes faced it; his mind was shinning through them
Like as if he looked passed it.
His right hand held the weight of his head,
Like when a tree is bent by the wind
And the only thing holding it is
The need of survival and the responsibility
Of giving the leaves a place to live.
I stood still and suddenly the same
Uncomfortable feeling of being in a rollercoaster
Took control of my body.
The news had taken over our home.
The sunlight that shinned its way through the windows
Became dimmer.
Harsh words, disappointment, Depression,
Anger, Fear, Sadness and Despair,
Were silently written all over the walls and floors
As if with magic marker that only we could see.
They scrambled and fought their way
Across my room. There, another room just like mine.
Behind the door a hopeless soul cries.
I heard the screams that the love of a mother makes
When it thinks that it has failed. She held him.
He asked for forgiveness.
With each word that came out of his mouth,
He evolved into a man.
Innocence. Freedom. Gone.
Time to step up. Grow up. Be a man.
Time to become the image of our old man.
Sit in the same chair, watch television and care.
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