One Day

I saw a ladder today.

It reminded me of my father.

Climbing up, falling down.

Hurt before my eyes.

Made human.

Made real.

One day,

I’ll fall.

One day,

when they’re old enough

to understand the cognitive disonance

that comes from truly knowing someone,

my daughters will see me as more than Daddy.

They’ll see me as the flawed person that I am,

a husband, a father, an employee, a leader, a teller of tales, a maker of things, a consumate swearer, a man anxious about the future my generation built for them.

And they’ll be thankful to know the sum of all my parts.

Just as I was.