You Carried Your Cross

I watched you carry your cross

And I saw it echoed, duplicated in your
eyes
Every time you looked at me

All that you wanted for me

You gave up yourself

All that you wanted to watch me learn and do

The moments of growing up that you wanted so much to be there for

You knew you would not have to treasure

I saw the pain when you thought I did not

When it was too great to hide

I watched physical weakness become spiritual strength

When I asked you to read to me

As you had done so many times with me before

You were too weak to speak

Too weak to hold me as you wanted to so desperately

And I saw the cross again in your eyes

As you grew weaker and weaker

Your faith grew stronger and stronger

Until you began to embrace your cross

As I have not yet learned how to do

NOTE: This is unedited, unfinished, and quite frankly probably pretty boring. I don't think anyone really comes here to read anyway, so it shouldn't matter. I just felt the need to post it somewhere. It's about my dad. Since I was the youngest of us 3 children, I was still not in school (4 yrs. old) through dad's sickness (he died of cancer). I knew him sick more than well.

The note on reading was just that, once, when he was very weak, I came out with a book and asked him, 'Daddy, will you read to me?' It had always been a favorite time of his - when he read to us. He didn't say anything, but I could see the pain in his eyes. He was too weak, at that point, to even speak. Daddy was a wonderful speaker. He was a pastor.