Like any good son,
I was not good all the time.
Like many good sons,
I grew up, attended university,
forged my own life and career
which took me far from my father’s house.
Because I was far away in my own life,
I was not by my father’s side when he died.
He died in an auto accident,
so it is a good thing I was not by his side.
I attended his memorial in the church
he attended every Sunday for fifty years.
The service was midwestern-protestant
and beautiful in that manner.
Three hundred mourners told me
how his goodness touched them.
Like any good son, I kept quiet
about all the times he was not good.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
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