18
Mar
16

Made it

Well,

You made it

Another year,

Around the sun

As the earth spun,

And the tides

Rose and fell,

Seasons changed

From Spring,

To Summer,

To Fall,

To Winter,

And back

To Spring

For another birthday.

It wasn’t pretty-

It still isn’t-

And won’t be

For a while

Longer.

The voices

Of doubt,

And fear,

And anxiety,

And loneliness

Are louder

Than ever

In your head-

Don’t expect it to get any quieter any time soon, either.

But you’re here,

Still,

Somehow,

Against the odds,

And the best efforts

Of others,

And yourself,

To prevent that

From happening.

You’re here.

Here.

Your daughters

Still love you,

And really don’t

Give a shit

About the voices

In your head,

But only

That you

Keep getting up

Each morning

To make breakfast

And rush them

Out the door

To school,

Complaining

Each step of the way,

And that

You

Continue

To read books

At bedtime,

Or tell funny stories

Of your awkward

And relatable

Youth,

Or sit on the floor

To play cards,

Or snap the tiny Legos® together

When smaller fingers

Don’t have the strength

Or coordination

To do it

On their own.

They see you

Hurt,

But still love

You,

Even when

You don’t.

You’re still

Here,

So stay

Here,

And be

Here

A little longer at least

For them-

For you.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 18, 2016

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