To my friends at Poverty Reduction Initiative:
There will be a short hiatus of my postings to this blog. My apologies for that. My daughter passed away on Labor Day. It was a week shy of her 25th birthday on 9/11.
With that in mind, please allow me to share a poem that I wrote for her on her birthday in 2008:
Some days are sacred
and filled with memories
for Christians it is
Christmas or Easter,
But for me the day I first held you child
is most blessed.
A father's bond started
on this day, your whole life ago,
only for me not so long.
It seems an instant
since the precious time
I first stroked your hair
and the tears rolled down my cheeks
as you entered my heart
right there, right then.
Mothers carry within their wombs
and love for months before dads.
The kicks of little hands and legs
and beats of tiny hearts are foreign to us
something to feel from the outside
So it is on day one
that our devotion begins.
Such it is.
A father's love
starts then, my precious daughter,
and for this dad
it never dies
as my heart was yours
that very day
and will always be
for this there is no end.
- Rob B.