He came home one afternoon
with some papers in his hand.
His countenance was hesitant.
It was sickening news.
Our little family had a decision to make.
To reside in a new land,
amongst a new language
and a new culture
even further from our home!
Three years away
for our young family.
Or ...
One final year.
One more year to a normal life!
to a life back home!
to a start with our own little family!
Just one more year.
But a year separated.
Husband and wife,
Father and son
oceans apart.
Milestones apart.
Decide.
Decide.
How?! Damn this!
Oh, my heart!
decide
One year or three?
Is this what it comes to?
It is how we see it.
Our babe still in arms,
still a nursling.
We make our choice.
One year.
So it was.
One year apart.
Husband and wife,
Father and son,
each suffering and longing
across the oceans.
Our infant leaves his mother's arms
to walk
and to talk.
Our babe in arms becomes a boy
and doesn't know his daddy.
One year lost.
Gone.
Vanished.
A boy should have his dad.
Let it never be neglected,
the necessity of the bond.
This is my haunt.
My one great regret.
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