My Only Defense

He held my daughter’s hands
as she took her first steps.

I smiled,
remembering
how he smelled of baby powder,
his toothless grin,
the first time I held him.

Twenty odd years passed
overnight.

Where’s the little boy I used to tickle?
The kid on his skateboard?
The Marine I was so proud of?

Gone in a split second.

I keep asking myself
Why?
Why him?
Why now?
Even though knowing the answer wouldn’t change a thing.

Believing a greater good will come
is my only defense.

I mourn the loss
of the man he was
and the man
he had not yet become.

A husband.
A father.

Though I saw a glimpse of that man once...
the day he held my daughter’s hands.