It has been ten years since my dad had a heart attack which led to his death. I think about his sense of humor, his photos, and the Abraham Lincoln beard that he had for a while in the 1970s. I look at black and white photos that he took. It’s not the facial hair that sticks in my mind but the hunch of his shoulders, the khaki pants, the way he liked to laugh at his own jokes. I love all the evidence of his love of life that he made as an artist.
It’s been a year
since I’ve seen him in person, I miss how he points
to his apple trees and I miss his smooth face
that no longer has the mustache I adored.
As a child I once cried when he shaved it. Even then,
I was too attached to this life.
–Ada Limón, from My Father’s Mustache, in The Hurting Kind, Milkweed Editions, 2022