Breaking Through
- Robert J McDonald | September 28, 2017
Getting to know my dad wasn’t all that easy,
It was like hitting a brick wall. Made my stomach queasy,
Ya, he worked hard to put a roof over our heads and food on the table,
But drawing his attention became nothing but a fable,
It’s hard to explain. Difficult to tell,
You see, he grew up a victim of residential day school hell,
He refused to talk about it but in his eyes I could see,
There were many hidden secrets he wanted to let be,
Still, he lost his language, he said he spoke Michef my son,
Forced to give it up for English or suffer another lash from the nun,
To be clear, he rarely spoke, yet his silence was loud,
He never told me he loved me or said he was proud,
He seldom showed emotion, he never offered a hug,
It made me feel sad. It gave my heart a tug,
Even as he lay dying in his hospital bed, I thought he’d finally speak,
Or at least turn the other cheek,
However, it wasn’t meant to be,
Because you see,
There was no one by his side. He passed away alone,
I heard it through Facebook and a call on the phone,
And while questions remain unanswered, it finally dawn,
For now I understand that all the pain is gone.