There are not many souls as beautiful or broken.
Tormented by depression no one completely understands,
you fight through the fog of every day.
I wish you could see what I see.
You always remembered my birthday-
even though you were self medicated with beer.
You took me to dances
and always gave me the most beautiful corsages -
each and every time.
I dried all the flowers you gave me
and kept them through the divorce and my remarriage.
(now our son sends me flowers
that I dry and keep with yours-
he truly is the better part of you)
I also remember the fights -
only now realizing you weren't fighting with me,
you were fighting your demons.
I think I will cling to the good.
Our son is one of the most amazing men on the planet.
You predicted he would be an athlete -
when he took his first steps.
I only wish your illness would have released
its grip long enough for you to make his games.
High school, college, two years pro ball
Your illness only released its grip once.
One game out of hundreds.
Your excitement to see fans
wearing the name you gave him with his number.
If only you could experience joy-
without the deadly combination
of alcohol and meds.