I COULD NOT WEEP FOR HIM

I could not weep
When he was diagnosed
And I feared the worst
Or when the false smile appeared
And he feared it too
And put on a brave face

I could not weep
As I sat at his side
His hand once as strong as atlas
Now too weak to grip
Weak like a babe
More so

I could not weep
As I watched the frown
Furrowing his weathered face
Grey, expressionless
And as his frown faded,
As the morphine took control

I could not weep
As he lay motionless,
Breath shallow
Silent, almost
But for the occasional groan
Beneath the morphine

I could not weep
At his deathbed
As the monster within
Crept through his organs
Hastening the end
For him and for itself

I could not weep
As his muscles relaxed
And the pain was no more
As he exhaled his last
And his soul passed
When he was at peace

I could not weep
Not because it wasn’t macho
Nor for lack of love
It was perhaps numbness
Or a need to be strong
For family, others

I could not weep
When my father died
When he released his grip on life
And I kissed him goodbye
I felt only relief
That his suffering had ended

I could not weep
Not even at his funeral
When all who loved him gathered
And we shared memories
Even when the curtains drew
I could not weep for him

Fourteen years later
On a cold December morning
I held my first born son
And amidst the tears of joy
I wept for him
As I held his grandson