Dear Daddy, can you see it now? Looking back can you see your place in the chain that stops our family tree from finding summer? Can you see those missed opportunities and misdeeds and missing moments that were always just beyond reach in the morning? Can you see it all now as your body weakens because of your weakness?

You, who claimed you could stop at anytime.

And you, who have a picture of St Thomas on top of your television.

The one who would not believe that Christ had returned until he had touched the wounds with his own hands.

But no man will let another man touch his wounds if he cannot admit he is broken.

So, no salvation came, Daddy.

And you, who were always Doctor Jekyll, hiding behind your glass mask. A good man until whisky flipped the liquid switch and sent you slipping down to stagger off and collapse on roundabouts or another woman’s sheets.

And now I sit writing this. Sat on your old bar stool. The spot where your old stories were told and re-told. The spot where the past was re-packaged with roses, wrapped with a bow and presented. Did I tell you about the time...? Yes, Daddy, you did. A lone man crying wolf in the saloon, but eventually the beast would always come.

And us, whose family has a new man now. Brand new and unbroken by the world, Daniel Edward Thomas. Who has not learned to howl yet, but simply gurgles at the moon. And I wish he could understand so I might speak to him. Might speak to him and say that my fate may still be his and yours mine, Daddy. Like the stain glass that stains some souls with hope, do you see now how the fathers of our family taint their sons by the giving of themselves?

And you, who were named Thomas, after your father. Giving you a likeness you could never break to a man who claimed to have no wounds.

So, I write this in the name of the father, which is the name of the son.

Hey all. check out my NeoArtist blog, for more of my thoughts and work.

http://www.neoartists.co.uk/blog/index.php