I got you papa

I take that back.

I was tired, and i was sad. I had a tough day. I didn't mean it. You are not a picture, you will never be a picture.

You are here as much as i am. I look inward and there you are, deep in my heart, smiling, assuring me that you are okay, that you are home. Telling me that you are with your mom. Whom you lost as a child, and whom i know you missed every day since. You tell me that you are at peace, like in the little song you made up.

Where else is it to be found?
The final peace.
But in a child's abundant slumber in the lap of his mother.

And don't you worry about me papa. I look outward and there you are, in my passion for math, my indefatigable drive to see it loved. In my defiance against the authority to stand up for my beliefs. In my insatiable curiosity for knowledge and truth. Even in that quizzical half-smile half-smirk of mine. I got you, papa. You walk with me.

And I am glad i could make you happy. I am glad that i could give you the little or nothings you asked for yourself and the big things that you asked for me. I am forever blessed for that.

Sleep then, weary child. You walked a path long and hard. Let my tears wash your tired feet. You left your blanket behind, the one you always asked for. Let my love wrap you with no less warmth. Until i see you again.