I Saw Spots on My Father’s Hands

I saw spots on my father’s hands

Bulging veins and raised bones

A thinness to his arm that wasn’t there before

And I had to suppress my tears

So he wouldn’t see that I had noticed

How far he had come

In just a year

“There’s nothing wrong with me,”

He would say,

“I’m healthy as I can be at this age.”

But I saw spots on my father’s hands

Where there had not been spots

Just a year before

When he was holding hers

And weeping over what could not be

Undone

What could not be

Helped

What could not be

Erased

And he has never forgotten

How he could not help her

Just a year ago

And he has not forgiven himself

For not being able to stop

The inevitable

And so now I see spots on my father’s hands

Evidence of the wear and tear

That just a year can have

That just a year can take on a soul

That has lost all its will

I see spots on my father’s hands

Evidence that someday I

Will have spots on my hands, too