These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Jan. 19

there will be no phone call,
no cheery voice on the other end,
trying to transpose numbers,
nor will there be a card already in his hands,
wishing" happy birthday" and many more.

no cake to taste or sweet tooth to soothe,
or restaurant dinner to enjoy
with laughter and fun.

no gift to open
and smile to acknowledge
the heartfelt thanks

there will be no next year,
no more calls or dinners or gifts.

there is only loss.

mi padre esta muerto.