A Father's Grief
Bernadette McCauley 
He has a hard time looking me in the eye when I talk about her. His eyes fill with tears. He fights them back.
"Don't cry, never cry", his ego tells him. All the strength leaves his face and he holds the weight of his head on his hands.
He can't say her name. He says "baby","the baby". When I say "Kathie" his insides are trembling.
But he battles for control; fights back for strength; fights for energy; fights out of fear.
He lost his daughter, he can't lose himself.
Crying, I ask him if he holds the same memories, the same feelings.
He says, "I think differently than you do."
with all the strength his voice can muster.
His face says he is lying. But I let him lie.
What purpose would it serve to force him to suffer more? I have my answer. I am comforted.
We hold each other, protect each other, and tuck her in safely, lovingly in our hearts and minds.
Until another day...
Maybe then he can love her without being afraid.