Echoes of My Father

I saw your laughter circle through the air, My husband with our child, her joy untamed. And in that glow, a shadow lingered there— My father’s ghost, in memory unnamed. I do not hold a wealth of gentle years, For childhood wore the mask of grief and fight. Yet still I dream he soothed away my fears, And held me close as day dissolved to night. The past was fractured, sharp with loss and blame, But hope returns in echoes soft and clear. Through him, through you, love flickers all the same, A fragile flame that darkness could not sear. So here I stand, where grief and grace unite— A child of shadow, raising one in light.

Author's Note

This sonnet was born from watching my husband play with our daughter and suddenly imagining my late father holding me as a baby. Though my childhood holds more shadows than light, I hope that in some way, those moments of tenderness existed—and now, through my little family, I get to live them again.