A Father’s Eyes

Son,

there’s a road out past the edge of this land.

I have walked it every evenin’ since you left.

Not ‘cause I expected to see you.

But a father’s eyes…

they don’t know how to quit lookin’.

Some folks stopped askin’ about you years ago.

Stopped sayin’ your name at supper.

Like silence could bury what love won’t let go of.

But I’m still out here.

Still watchin’ that bend in the road where it disappears into the

trees.

Still leavin’ the light on

like it’s gonna guide you home.

I remember the day you asked me for your share.

Stood right there in that doorway and said,

“Give me what’s mine.

I want it now.

I don’t wanna wait for you to die to start livin’.” Mmm.

That was a hard thing to hear from my own son.

But I gave it to you.

Every bit of it.

‘Cause a man cannot love somebody and hold them hostage at the

same time.

Love got to let go sometimes,

even when it’s breakin’.

So I watched you walk down that road,

back straight, eyes already somewhere else.

I don’t know exactly what happened to you out there.

Wasn’t there for the nights.

Wasn’t there when the money ran out and so did your friends.

But I know what it does to a man’s pride

to end up feedin’ pigs for a stranger,

sittin’ in the dirt he made for himself,

till somethin’ in him gets quiet enough to hear the truth.

Son, I don’t know how many days you walked,

how many times you almost turned back around,

too ashamed to keep goin’.

But I know this — a long way off,

while you were still far off,

I saw you.

I saw you before you saw me.

Saw that walk I’d know anywhere,

comin’ up over that same bend in the road I been starin’

at for years.

I didn’t wait for you to reach the porch.

Didn’t wait for your apology.

Didn’t need to hear the whole sad song before I knew what

I was gonna do.

I ran.

These old legs

— I ran.

And when I got to you,

you started in on your speech

— “Father, I've sinned.

I ain’t worthy to be called your son—”

And I just held your face in these hands and said,

“Hush now. Hush.

Go get the best robe we got,

put it on him.

Put a ring on his hand.

Somethin’ on his feet,

‘cause my son is walkin’ around barefoot.

And kill that fattened calf,

’cause we ’bout to celebrate tonight

— ‘Cause this son of mine was dead,

and now he’s alive again.

He was lost… and now he’s found.”

Come here, son.

Let me look at you.

You were never lost to me.

You were just…

far.

And far ain’t forever,

not when somebody’s waitin’ at the end of it.