When I received a letter from my Dad,
Saying he didn't want to meet,
I decided to go and confront him.
I wasn't going to admit defeat.
'I told you in my letter not to come.
I thought I made that perfectly clear!
It would never work. I don't even know you, '
Were not the words I'd hoped to hear.
'It's too late, ' he told me.
'You've got your life. I've got mine.'
He was shocked when I told him
I'd lost my Mum in an accident when I was nine.
My brother, Luke, asked me to stay in touch.
He was begging me to stay,
But there seemed nothing between me and Dad,
And I thought it best for me to go away.
When I was small, we went for walks.
It was always Dad's hand I wanted to hold.
It kept me from falling.
It kept me from the cold.
I was sitting in the car ready to leave,
But took one last look out the window.
Dad was stood there. I went to him.
'Don't go, ' he pleaded. 'Please, don't go! '
As he held my hand in his
For the first time in thirty years,
I found it totally impossible
To hold back the flood of tears.
I put my head on his shoulder,
And we held each other tight.
This was the moment I'd dreamed of,
And now I was convinced the moment was right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem