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On the Death of My Father Lawrence Anthony Gebera on my Birthday

This poem is not about a parent's failing but about our obligation not to judge and see the good in a person as a gift to us all.

The Desert and the Gift of the World

Alone but Given

Alone but Given


You were not present when I was young.

You, as was my mother, were not good at parenting.

Each, alone, was a decent soul.

To others good;

for the two you made – a desert.

Had you each the loyal hand

Of one another and,

The strength of two in gold, or

Good parents of your own –

How much better life would have been for us.

Your walk away was guilt.

I did not harm you.

The parent begins a battle

The child is left behind.

For years your good deeds

For others was atonement

A life of attempted battle against perceived wrongs

You were just a man

One human being after another

Makes his own mistakes.

Is entitled to them by existence.

With none more grievous than

Any other, merely existing as a state.

I see you, and always have,

As just what you are.

A product of other’s harms

And, having made a few mistakes yourself,

Sought constant solus in good deeds.

You are lost now

You did not reach out your hand to me

But it was there for you with just a whisper.

Your deeds brightened others, and

Us being all one earth

Made the world better each day.

A sunrise to mankind.

A seed to each sparrow.

Gentle stroke to each furred friend.

Thank you for your gift to each.

You brought me to the world on this day.

I bring you home on this same day

Twenty-Three days into a new year.

I have no anger

Only sadness at your loss

Which is my own.

Rest without guilt.


from Christy.

Obituary: A Tribute to Larry

© 2019 Christine Patrice Gebera

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