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Smacked my lips, primped my hair Took a deep breath of the crisp cold air Relaxed my shoulders, trying to hide Deep feelings I had buried inside Entering the room hoping to escape The audience I knew I had to face So sudden the tears welled up in my eyes At the first sound of my mother’s cry I caught a glimpse of my uncle cope By speaking of my dad’s lost hope Knowing my dad had used all his wisdom In attempts to free my brother from prison My dad had given up after doing all he could To get others to accept ignorance isn’t good He inspired others to share their voice In recognizing mental illness is not a choice His aura, his persona, his sensitivity to the cause So present in the room it made me stop and pause My dad was genuinely, deeply spiritual and real He could make even the most hardened feel Feeling the weight of the lump in my heart Had to leave the room to prevent falling apart More than once I left and did this retreat To regain my center and get back on my feet He had affected a variety of people it is true So many strangers, so many I never even knew These couples who struggled to save their own From an illness so devastating and unknown I felt compassion and healing in their presence As we cried and reminisced about my dad’s existence Classic Bob Dylan music playing in the background So his style I felt he was still around A slide video he narrated of all of us so young Brought him to life hearing him dissect each one All the emails of adoration from others in their fight Lined the walls to exemplify his inner bright light Adorning the hallway many letters to the editor he wrote The substance and passion in others he provoked His genius, his remarkable mind was brilliant He was compassionate, centered and very resilient So many thoughts and feelings not expressed I wanted more time before he was put to rest To my daddy I was his little girl And to me he was my world -LORI JEAN PHIPPS
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