I'm Not the Kind of Father
by Michael Doyle

I'm not the kind of father
Who can spend a lot of money
However much I love my daughters
My ex thinks this is funny

She complains about the money she spends
Despite the child support given
And I quietly listen as my life upends
By all she's taken, though, that's forgiven

I don't tell my daughters of the unkindness
How life is often less than it could be
Or that the disease inside is causing blindness
Wearing me down, though, I live through tolerably

They don't need to know that their faces
Are what makes me able to go on
Or that each hug leaves its traces
That allows me something to dream on 

I try not to think about what the doctors say
That the disease will find its way to my brain
I wish that I could wish this thing away
I don't know if it will be memory loss or I'll be insane

Instead, I cling to what isn't gone
Putting one foot in front of the other
Pushing life to its limits, on and on
Walking my steps and praying for another

My daughters hate how easily I fall asleep
As I busily try to build them lasting memories
Not letting them know too deep
The depth of what's going on inside me

Each night, I wonder to myself
Will I fall asleep to never again wake
While I doze off to books from my shelf
And I cherish my time with every breath I take

Last night, I watched them hurry down the stairs
Wishing them love and the sweetest dreams
Wondering if my miracles will know how they compare
To the best of my best, and how this all seems

That if I can only live until they are both eighteen
That my God has answered my prayers to the best
Watching them grow up will be what I've seen
If that prayer is answered, I don't need the rest

(c) September 23, 2023   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved