I don’t want to forget him.
And I’m scared. Really scared.
Sometimes I try to remember his voice
and I don’t know if I’m actually remembering it
or if I’m making it up.
That scares me.
It’s been five Christmases without my dad
and there are days when it doesn’t hurt as much
and then I think
why doesn’t it hurt?
what am I losing now?
I don’t want his face to fade.
I don’t want him to become
just “my father.”
I want to remember him.
And I’m afraid
that time will do what it always does
and I won’t be able to stop it.
That’s the fear.
That one day I’ll want to remember him
and I won’t know how.