Sotto Voce

a near silent prayer;
she speaks his name
to the winds of time

hoping against her loss,
that he’ll reply,
render these
missing years 
but a dream





*missing my father today!

22 thoughts on “Sotto Voce

  1. These beautiful words brought tears to my eyes Rita but they are good tears even though I miss my Dad every day. Your words seem to reach into my soul every time I read them and a tiny piece more of me heals. For that alone I know I love you dearly Thank you xxx

    • I have no words but thank you. I suppose it’s been so much harder for me with Dad because of all the wasted years due to his alcoholism.

      But damn, when he sobered, he was my best friend, confidante, champion and simply the funniest guy I ever knew. I catch myself sometimes saying hearing a joke that makes me laugh so hard and I’ll say his name as if he should laugh too. I just miss the old man.

      • Oh Rita once again your words have had a great impact on me, It’s hard for me to read between the lines and know the emotional devastation that Alcoholism has for those watching a loved one drink without control.. I thought I could find peace at the bottom of a bottle and the slow insidious descent into alcoholism took me by surprise only because I didn’t want to face it and nobody wanted to challenge me through it! It took everything I had to want to stop and I fell as often as I stayed sober with the first few dry spells BUT now as of 12th March I have been sober for four years and never take it for granted. Reading this was hard but I am so glad you shared it xxx

      • I am so frigging proud of you! It is something I can totally understand – both as a child of an alcoholic and a woman who was slipping silently into the same pattern as my Dad by the time I was 30.

        Because I was the responsible one – no one challenged me either. It came to the point of my drinking at home alone in the daytime – literally had a bottle of Schnapps hidden in the top cabinet. What’s the deal? Right? I just needed to chill.

        It was my Dad who got in my face and asked if I wanted to loose everything that mattered like did. That did it for me.

        Unfortunately, for folks like me who can become devoured by things quite easily if they provide some sense of release -anything can become an addiction. It was Pop who got in my face again when he saw that I had simply traded a stiff drink for working 18 hours a day.

        I will confess it wasn’t until our son’s accident in 1998 that I was smacked in the face with a “What the fuck are you doing?” and got my shit together in terms of letting anything or anybody control me again.

        Moving to Colorado was my emancipation proclamation – I was a truly FREE woman for the first time in my life; though many believed I was always free because I was a fighter. I was NOT. I was a fighter because I was fucking scared to live!

        See – this is why I needed a place of my own that I can control. So we can talk like this, Sister. I have no interest in holding back from you.

      • OK i’m fighting back ” Oh poop this Woman gets me” tears right now Rita! You have helped me find my voice and i am starting to unfold my wings and bit by bit I know I will find the courage to soar!! Fook I am just so so lost for words right now but just beyond thankful and I am loving the fact you have the Hangout room too xxx

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