Never. No more.
Never. No more.
No possibilities. The End. No potential.
Nothing.
For her:
No new books to read.
No more beaded necklaces to look at.
No more stirring the hot fudge
and ice cream
and cake together
at Big Boy
into 'soup'
For me:
No more anticipating what kind
of teenager she was
growing up into
No more wondering if any
boys would date her --
that is, would they brave
the beauty (the first
obstacle) then,
would they accept
the challenge of an
equal or a better
(the second obstacle)
then, would they be
interesting to her (the
third obstacle)
No more trying to get her
to come stroll around
downtown Ann Arbor with
dad and little sister
No more kicking my own
disorganized ass when
she says 'you forgot to
give me my allowance for
three weeks' when
she wants to buy some
piece of junk for $2.95
and I'm wanting to teach
her to 'save up for it'
No more buying a kid's meal
and a fish sandwich knowing
she'll talk me into letting
her eat my fish sandwich
No more watching the indulgent,
sometimes concerned, sometimes
sympathetic look on her face
when I try and sing the
high notes in 'Long
Time Love Song' ("I long
to feel that sail leaping
in the wind")
No more sitting at the foot
of her bed singing while
Lisa says 'sit on my bed
dad'
No more checking all the time
in case Shel Silverstein
brings out a new book that
I could buy to surprise her
No more walking by her room
at night and deciding too
damned often to go by
rather than go in and
snuggle up in bed behind
her for five or ten minutes.
For her:
No more "Dad, was John the
Beatle who died?"
No enjoying the new bike,
bought after the van was
hit last time only a
few weeks before
No more sleepovers
No learning about sex
No wearing the outfit she'd picked for
the first day of school
No watching mom and dad
holding hands
No teenaged girls sleepovers
No getting up at 2 a.m. to breast
feed a crying infant
No deciding on 'this job I
love or that one that
pays the bills?'
No first date
No first breakup
No sweating the question "will
he get up the nerve to
ask me to marry him or
will I have to ask?"
For me:
No laying on the grass watching
the stars and wondering
if she's going to ask me
about lingerie ads
No more looking into those
green blue gray eyes and
wondering how we were so
lucky and blessed to bring
this beautiful human being
into the world
No more peaceful days
No more peaceful nights
No driving her to her college
dorm and helping her
settle in
No more wondering if there's any
way we can help her along
once she actually figures
out what she wants to do
with her life
No more listening to the lyrics
of the music she likes to
try and help her come to
terms with it
No more anything.
No more anything.
No more anything.
No more anything.
No more anything. No more anyt
hing. No more anything.
No more anything.
- September, 1998