Skip to Content

To My Son's Father Part Two: Lips & Poetry

August 25, 2026 by
To My Son's Father Part Two: Lips & Poetry
Lips and Language

Distant Memory

To my son’s father
Ive accepted the fact that for you forgiveness looks like distance
But I wish distance didn’t feel like a forgotten memory
I wish distance didn’t feel like we never existed
Well more so like he never existed cause I never cared too much about me
My memories of him feel like hugs, my tears a reminder of the pieces of heaven left behind
My sadness finally disappeared and I broke agreement with grief that it was gonna be for a long time
Time heals is a lie
Cause time could pass and I be in the same place struggling to get by
by the way does it feel like this for you?
Too many times I’ve wondered
Do you remember his birthday
Or even the day he died? Does he cross your mind or has the pain been too unbearable that you keep it inside?
Why does forgiveness leave a sting of distant memories
Although I’m extremely grateful for the father you seem to be becoming
I know we served as a painful lesson that you got the opportunity to retry
There’s no redo for the love in the sky
Ain’t no redo for all the nights
I’ve cried
I’ve prayed
Asked God for help to get by
But A part of me wanted to know why?
Why did you not care enough to try?
You may lie to me but you’ll live with your own honesty and honestly I don’t think
You had the capacity to give more and that’s the realest truth that brings the most peace
There’s no simple answer to past mistakes but forgiveness is always the gate to healing
like I said time heals is a lie cause it’s been the decisions I’ve made to move forward that have allowed healing to plant the seeds of hope
It’s blossoming this year
Ive had 8 years of my tears watering the soil Then healing crept in and I truly had to say goodbye
I know that our paths crossing will always be a blessing to me
As I understand both unconditional love and the importance of continued forgiveness 
I understand that sometimes memories are too painful to revisit
You owe me nothing
Not even a hi, hello,
Your choice to heal belongs to you, even if that means that I feel left in the distance
Resistance to change would have kept me broken
Soaked in sorrow but I traded it for renewed peace and the ability to keep taking the leap everyday to be better than my previous day  and that’s my only prayer for you
To my sons father

I bid you adieu

Reflection & Context

This piece continues the conversation between grief and forgiveness, this time from the place of distance — not as punishment, but as the only form of peace two wounded people could manage. It is written from a mother who has learned that sometimes forgiveness does not look like reunion, conversation, or shared memory, but like releasing someone into their own process and choosing not to carry the weight of what they cannot face.

It explores how absence can feel like erasure, how a child’s memory can live vividly in one heart while remaining too painful for another to touch. The poem names the quiet ache of wondering whether a father remembers birthdays, anniversaries, and final moments — and the deeper realization that capacity, not cruelty, is often what limits people.

At its core, this work is about mature forgiveness: the kind that does not demand closeness, explanation, or validation. It is about choosing healing through conscious decisions, allowing grief to soften into gratitude, and trusting that God can tend to both hearts separately, even when paths no longer cross.

Reflection Prompt

Have you ever had to forgive someone without reconciliation?

What would it look like to release the need for shared memory and allow healing to happen on separate paths?

Original Performance 


This piece was originally performed as part of the Lips & Poetry series, where spoken word meets lived experience. Watch the original recording below to hear the rhythm, breath, and emotion that first carried these words.

Experience the Poem in Voice