At the Grave of my Family: Father and 2 Brothers

This is the longest that I've spent with them,

lined up beneath the earth, side by side:

a united family.

This is the closest I've been to them,

all three so near, but 10 feet beneath my feet.

They all felt, at one time or another, that I was

better than them; put me on an invisible

pedestal high above them.

Now I'm above them.  I'm left alone

even though we've been estranged for decades.

I am alone.   It is quite here;

we haven't spoken in years.

I am the last on, penned with a name

that I had to grow in to;

A name that I pass along to my own children,

without strings attached to each letter,

each false memory, family lore that dictated

my behavior.  I.  am.  here.

staring at my name chiseled three times

into granite stones:

Here lies               Here lies               Here lies

I give my sons this name, Germanic and complete:

a name without lies;

The lies they told me, themselves,

the police.

Here lies the end of an era,

a fictional family made up of non-existent birthdays

Christmas cheer, Easter egg hunts, Holy Communion.

I have laid these lies to rest.

I turn around, take my sons' hands and

go home.