Our Daughter Knows All the Reasons Why: A Poem

I wrote this poem for my husband a few days ago, and like most poems I write about Corrie, there is hope. I haven’t read percentages, but people have said there is a high divorce rate amongst couples who lose a child. I know this:

I don’t where I’d be in my journey without Corrie without my John.

I am sure there is a reason

like the way Science 

explains why the 

waves roll and 

collide on a shore with 

broken shells on which

you see parts of sunset:

the pinks, blues, and

violet.

Reasons published in 

historical and Science texts 

sound as romantic as 

dust under books on

shelves with editions 

released in 1985. But 

reasons often delegate

themselves to minds and

bookshelves make more

sense than the pinks, blues,

and violet pieced together

in a Picasso artist’s mural.

I know the reasons why

you’ve lost so much 

weight, and why

sometimes I catch you

staring out the window

as if …

There are those who 

never come back for

one reason or another,

and we know the 

reasons why because

we were a part of the 

magma flow over 

Mount Vesuvius,

and now are nothing

more than words in

a historical or 

Science texts from 

1985 gathering dust

on shelves to some.

But love, those some

are not part of the

whole. Only the few

who’d seek to hurt 

you belong to book

shelves gathering dust.

I know all the reasons

why half an omelet

still sits on your plate.

I’m desperate for you to

eat and not lose weight

as I pray for you, 

our son, her memory,

and another child to

come to us. We are not

defined by the 

moments when we 

become shattered 

shells in the ocean’s 

sand.  You were 

always mine, and I

always saw the pinks,

blues, and violet

altogether in you.

Remember when some 

said we were nothing

more than shattered

shells along the ocean

floor, or dust collected

on books with facts long

since proven wrong? Our

daughter knows all the

reasons why, and she’d

have you lift your eyes

to the heavens where

she paints those sunset

colors just for you.

Happy Father’s Day to dads everywhere!

Poem by Rebecca T. Dickinson, Copyright 2021 R.T. Dickinson