in the eyes of the people I call my mother, my brother, my sister.
One of those people.
Not to say that there wasn’t another side.
I remember. Clown and dinner suits. Tears, stress and rage.
Not an Italian man who put his hand under a saw because he was punched in the face, called a b… sago and sent to the end of a queue but a
Boy who was put in Grade 2
and pelted by stones.
No more school. No way. Get out. Not like that.
Learn the hard way.
Learn the joy in giving a truck load of dirt to a woman who needs it.
Take nothing in return.
Eyes ice blue.
Smile worn and ready.
A body is long gone.
Today is my dad’s birthday.