The Day My Father Died

When I was a little girl, we had a mini concert at Sunday School. I remember Andrew D said a poem called “The Day My Father Died.” The only verse that I remember to this day is the one that says, “The day my father died, I could not cry; My mother cried, Not I.”

I didn’t even know it was a poem at that time. I thought Andrew was just sharing his hatred for his father. In my childhood mind I thought Andrew was heartless and cold. How could you not cry if your father died? 

But I must say, it wasn’t Andrew’s poem that took the cake that Sunday; it was the song that my brother and I sang. We sang “Metric Fever.” For those of you who are old enough to remember, some years ago Jamaica launched a campaign to go all metric The campaign included a viral song called “Metric Fever.” When my brother and I realized, having seen the reactions of our Sunday School teachers, that “Metric Fever” was not an appropriate song for Sunday School, we began deejaying “God, God, God…….” The thought of it brings much smiles and laughter to me right now.

Today Mervyn Morris’ poem came to me: “The Day My Father Died.” My father died two days ago. Nobody actually told me that my father died. Nobody said those words to me. The three phone calls I got asked me if my mother had called me. Why did they all ask that question? Why did my mother instruct them not to call me? Despite that instruction, they all called me.

I saw Daddy after 3 that morning. “He is sleeping,” that’s what I told my mother. “Go back to bed,” I said. “He is just snoring loudly.” 

I didn’t know. I couldn’t know. 

Daddy passed away in his sleep. He slept away, He transitioned. He left us.

I want to ask why. I want to say no.

It wasn’t not my decision to make. God said it was time to go. 

You fought, Daddy. 

You put up a good fight.

You were tired.

You wanted to rest. 

 You were a good man. Everybody knows. Everybody says so. 

I know you are, but sadly you had to go.

 

The day my father died, I cried. 

I had to cry. 

Why wouldn't I cry? 

How could I not cy?

I cried.

I had to cry.

The day my father died, I cried.

-eS