I ask myself,
“Would this make
him proud?”

And I keep asking.

Knowing that it
will be a long while
before I get my answer.

But someday
I will see
him again.

He will be
standing there
waiting for me.

First in line on
the far side banks.

And I will stand bravely,
as he always taught me,
and I will ask him,
“Did I make you proud?”

Confident that
I spent my
life trying.

I think I know
that his answer
doesn’t matter.

But that does not mean
I do not need to believe
that I will hear it.

That he will wait
and watch and
laugh when the
time comes,
with that devilish
grin on his face
because he knows.

He knows what he
has always known
and I will spend
my life learning –

I did it for him.
Of course
he is proud.


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