In Memory’s Embrace

When I was but a tender age of eight,
A shadow cloaked my world in sudden night,
My father’s love, a beacon strong and great,
Extinguished, leaving echoes of his light.

His memory, a whisper in my ear,
A guiding star through life’s uncharted seas,
Yet losing him was pain so sharp, so near,
A wound that time would never fully ease.

I longed to join him, time and time again,
To close my eyes and feel his warm embrace,
But life went on, with joy and grief and pain,
And I, alone, continued in this race.

Through darkened days, through trials hard and foul,
I faced a world that often seemed unjust,
Assaulted by the shadows, feeling small,
Yet in my heart, his wisdom was my trust.

I’d sit and play his favorite songs, just so,
To feel his presence, close and real once more,
Afraid that as the years would ebb and flow,
His face, his voice, would fade and be no more.

But age has brought a clarity, a grace,
His lessons etched in every act I take,
He taught me cooking’s magic and its place,
A way to heal, to love, to mend, to make.

In every dish, I feel his gentle hand,
In every meal, his spirit comes alive,
Through every challenge, firm I take my stand,
For from his strength, my own resolve derives.

Independent, strong, and full of fire,
He taught me skills to navigate life’s sea,
To channel hurt into a heart’s desire,
To find my peace, my joy, my destiny.

Though gone, he lives within my every breath,
A memory that time cannot erase,
In kitchen’s warmth, I honor him in death,
His love, his life, my everlasting grace.