Bury him in Gabriels, far away from me.

On a beeline trip for safety razors
(of the pink variety, mind you)
I witnessed a young father
in the produce aisle as he tried
to reason with his three-year-old son.
I could hear the frustration in his voice.
"Here, get in this cart (the kind with
the fake plastic kid-holder car attached)
since the one you're in now is broken and..."

The rest of his verbose explanation was equally arbitrary.
He should've just told junior to hop to
if he knew what was good for him.
A child who drools in his sleep
doesn't understand logical reasoning.
Then again, a man who still does
(and can't buy dark sheets for that reason)
doesn't understand much more
but I'll disregard this instance as anecdotal.

En route to my razors (well...hers)
I overheard a blonde mom in her late twenties
behind me as she answered her adorably redundant daughter
(who was also being pushed in one of those
car-shaped toddler toters, oddly enough):
"I love you, Mommy."
"I love you, Eliza."
"I love you, Mommy."
"Mommy loves you too, Eliza."
"I love you, Mommy."
"I love you, too..."
at which point I turned around and smiled uncontrollably
trying not to scare the two of them with my work grime.

My humble conclusion:
One out of two local parents has it right, knows what counts.

You can never tell them enough.
Some parents forget that; some kids do, too.

-------------------

There's a crumpled picture of us behind the trash can
in my room. I'm sitting on his lap, my arms outstretched
for my mom behind the camera. (I must've learned
which parent was the better of the two at a young age.)
My father and I had the same eyes, even then.
In a fit of rage I went to throw that photo out a few months back
but retrieved it from the wastebasket. Somehow I felt it'd be
an irreversible sin so it sits on my floor out of site instead.
He doesn't deserve my love anymore
but despite his three-year absence I can't deny it's still there.
That's what hurts the most.

I won't become him.
And a eulogy is one thing I'd have trouble writing
if I even decide to go.