I'm Sorry

Dark irises peeped
Through wrinkled lids
That inched open sluggishly.

Grieving tears surged,
pouring over the aged rims
to stream down sallow cheeks.

His calloused hand,
Weathered,
Through decades of giving
And loving,
grasped feebly for mine.

His hoarse whisper
Uttered,
Wrecking his ruined lungs
With each quaking breath:

“I’m sorry
That I can’t see
You graduate.”

The dam shattered,
Composure vanquished
By sorrowful regret,
Flooding, drowning
In youthful memory
Of a promise
Unfulfilled, thwarted
In death.

“I’m sorry
That I can’t
Bring you home.”


My late grandfather's lifelong wish was for a chance to go back to his hometown in China. When I was ten, I learned of his wish and made a promise that I would study hard, graduate and earn enough money to bring him home to visit. That promise went unfulfilled when he succumbed to lung cancer and passed away when I was still in uni....