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On entering the afterlife, to be met by my father.
(Hopefully a long way off)

  > Hello Dad, it has been many a year

  < Not for me, time has no meaning here

  > You're looking well, since I looked at you last

  < One thing you leave when you're here is the past

  > Good job, you won't believe how much I'm scarred,
     can't say the past few years have not been hard.
     The burdens that I was prepared to take,
     the sacrifices I have had to make.

  < Whoah! Leave all those hard-done-to's at the door
     they hold no currency here any more.
     Do you think in the long life I was denied
     at any point  I had an easy ride?
     Back home from war, a country on it's knees
     no jobs to pick and choose, go where you please?
     The walks to find some work, no fares for bus
     trying to clothe and feed the six of us?

  > I shan't deny you had it really rough,
     but from my point of view it was quite tough,
     child number three within your clutch of four
     way down the pecking order, that's for sure.
     Your last son was priority number one............
      
  < That aura of self pity suits you ill
     considering my boots you had to fill
     we cut our cloth according to our need
     roof overhead, and family to feed
     compare me not to those you've left behind,
     the love I gave you was a different kind.

  > Such love you speak of never manifest
     I felt alone, adrift, unlike the rest.
     A fishing trip together, when I was small
     the only day we had I can recall.

  < I worked, but it took my good health at length
     an industry that sapped my breath and strength
     by fifty, there was no more I could do
     the body of a man aged ninety-two.
     If  like some of your friends, you'd had it all
     been mollycoddled , pampered, treated, spoiled
     by adulthood it would have been too late
     for you to come and step up to the plate.
     The inner strength you have to go so far
     is from your past, defining who you are.
    I'm proud you somehow managed to get by,
    now, come here, son- and let me dry your eye.


 For contest 'A conversation', sponsor Frank Herrera
 31st August 2016
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