Kismet, defined as “destiny, fate” explains the reason you and I came into each other’s lives, when I was only eight years old.
Kismet explains our similarities in spite of blood.
Kismet, a word I learned from you and lived through you.
Thank you for teaching me, protecting me, loving me. Thank you for being my Dad, eternally.
I wrote a poem. It feels more like a message from your divine soul, somewhat of a lucid dream, but I know I was inspired to write this because of you:
The Golden Days, Dedicated to my Dad, Edward G. Brown
Don’t know how to let go of something or someone who’s so grand
Why now, why ever
Why not just stay and let me hold your warm hand
I want happiness and roses and cherries and sunshine,
Healthy people around me
All the time
But I know
Life just ain’t so
For in this life we must bear the burden of tragedy
And it strikes like hot iron on an open wound when least expected
Leaving us forever affected.
There’s no turning back
Life doesn’t give the chance to hack time lost
Perhaps that’s why you created the Time Bandit Solution
To live everyday full in spite of chaos and pollution
Dad,
Remember the days we took for granted?
Those were the golden days.
Remember the people we assumed would always be here?
They were the golden souls.
Dad,
As a young bachelor you had asked the Heavens Above,
“Please don’t change a thing; you’d said you wanted to be a bachelor for life.’’
No kids, no family, perhaps not even a wife.
But you’d be the first to admit that no one stands a chance when Kismet starts to dance.
Dad,
You get what you deserve,
A family who loves you worth more than all the world’s material reserves.
As an older man, I hear you say, “This is my mipacha, my family…”
And…
These days my dear, these are the golden days.
This is not the big goodbye. This is farewell.
Fare you well until you’re joined by those you love.
Thank you for loving my mom so much.
Thank you for being my Dad.
Thank you for protecting my brother.
I will always love you Dad.
For a part of me has left with you.
But a part of you stays here with me.
End.
Thanks,
Neda