It was a bright, hot morning.

The day was extremely hot.

My mom and I were rushing to get ready.

Make-up, hair, and dress up.

We had to be at church at 2pm.

The day was finally here.

I would be doing my confirmation.

 

We had practiced our entrance days ago.

The presence of parents and godparents was require.

I invited my dad to the practice because parents and godparents had to be present.

We all arrive in different vehicles.

I seen my dad getting off his truck.

He walked to the entrance.

It was hard and awkward because my parents didn’t talk.

Two years ago,

when I started getting prepare for my confirmation,

I would of never imagine this occurring.

Having to decide who to sit next to.

Having to tell each something individually.

 

Awkwardly hearing.

Awkwardly speaking.

Awkwardly sitting.

 

Rehearsing took a few hours.

We kept walking back and forth.

Switching benches.

Organizing us by last name.

Vowing once we got to the front.

 

While we was rehearsing,

Parents and godparents were sitting down.

In the meantime, I was questioning why me?

Why did I have to go through this?

Why this awkward situation between us 3?

Was this going to be forever?

Practice ended.

Now, just waiting for the day.

 

I told him goodbye, thanks for coming.

See you Saturday at 2pm.

 

Now, just waiting for the day, Saturday.

Saturday came,

It was super, super hot!

The church bells were ringing.

The live music started.

Parents and godparents were in place already.

We walked through the aisle to our benches.

Mass began.

 

I looked around to see where my dad was sitting at.

I couldn’t find him.

 

Minutes passed.

I looked for him again.

I didn’t spy my dad.

Where could he be?

Was he all the way in the back?

Was he a bit late?

 

Mass ended.

I was finally confirmed.

I received my certificate.

It was now time to leave.

I never found him.

The only answer was that he never actually arrived.

How could he have done this?

Out of all the days, he chose that day.

My confirmation day.

 

He never called to excuse himself.

He never looked for me.

He never gave me a reason to his absence.

That day was actually the start of our lost communication.

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CC BY-SA 4.0 Lost Communication by Yahaira is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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2 Comments
  1. Octavio 9 months ago

    Dear Yaharia,
    Your poem was very descriptive and vivid. While i was reading i was able to imagine in my head the actual scene that occured. i like your poem in general….good job

  2. Lilian 9 months ago

    Dear Yahaira,
    I liked the way you wrote your poem because it was very descriptive. Almost if I was there. A sentence that stood out to me was, “Awkwardly hearing.Awkwardly speaking.Awkwardly sitting.” because it shows how you felt at that time. I think you have gone through a lot based on what you have posted in your recent post but you have managed to keep your head up high and move on although it must’ve been hard. Thanks your writing. I look forward to reading more of your writing because it’s going to be even better.

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