John

I held you last night,
but not for long enough.
I kissed you today,
but not for long enough.

Christel

We told you
not to go around
telling everyone
you're smart.

I don't know why,
we'd try to hold
you back.

I ask you questions,
you answer
and start to say
"I'm so smart"
but stop yourself.

Instead you say,
"Mom, you're so smart.
Don't you want to tell me
that I'm smart too?"

Sometimes, I think
you're too smart
for your own good,
and the apple doesn't
fall far from the tree.

Amy

You drift
into sleep
hand clutching my side
as though you'll never
need a teddy bear,
you have everything
necessary for
a good night's sleep.

During the day,
if I stray too far
from your sight
you come look for me,
reach up
and wait
expectantly.
You know,
I'll always
pick you up.

At night,
you stir a little
reach for me,
if I'm there
you settle back in
to sleep again,
if not
you seek me out
snuggle into
the crook of my arm
and drift away.

These are the moments
I don't want to lose.
These are the moments
I etch in stone.

To You

I know I didn't say it often enough, but I always thought you were cool. I appreciate now, things that you said to me then, even if I didn't know enough then to thank you for caring. I wish Christel and Amy got the chance to be raised around you. I wish they could hear you on the guitar. There's a lot that I wish had been different and now it never will be.

I hope that I can do enough in my lifetime to know that you would have been proud of what I have/will become. I should have thanked you for coming into my life and trying to be there for me in any way that I would allow, instead I just said that you weren't my dad and I didn't have to listen to what you said. I hope you understood that I was just a stupid kid when I said those things.