‘Gate Five’

The first full day of it, emergency room admittance to the bed he died in four days later, all I could think to say was, ‘Dad, I’m here’. And then somehow, I was granted more. Something fuller, more creative, and infinitely better. This is what a writer hopes for. A daughter. A human being. A fragile baby soul emerging, in utero, as it were. We wish for the words and humility to say them ‐ voiced or penned ‐ and the miraculous understanding that their expression is received. Their intention is fulfilled, at least to some extent, and that pain’s at bay, even if only for a moment.