As you recall times shared with family and father,
some of us look back on a singular lack.
I remember hearing ‘Girls don’t need fathers as much as boys do.’
Emphatically and thoroughly not true.
The place where a father might have been is empty and dark.
Less than grief, but more than loss, a separate chamber in the heart.
We’re girls who learn men from the outside first,
slaking a congenital thirst.
We grow up strong, we make up the lack,
But there’s something that we never get back:
the memories others celebrate today,
fathers and daughters along the way.
We’re grown women who have learned our way,
but the father-shaped abyss echoes today.