The Fog of Pain

Enveloped in Fog, Lions Gate Bridge, Stanley Park, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
This story begins with Enveloped.


I wonder why she lingers

An hour or so
Every day

On the bench
By the shore
On the edge of the fog

I wonder why
But I think I know

That bridge has been enough trouble
For us

For me
Maybe just for me

Even before the fog

The bridge we could never cross
The bridge I could never cross

The bridge I could never
Take her across

Even before the fog

Every time I look into her eyes
I see all the many ways
I failed her

I fail her

In her eyes
I see our daughter
My daughter’s eyes

I’m not sure which eyes
I’ve failed most
Or which it hurts more
To look into

She’s on the other side
In the fog

I don’t miss the anger
In those eyes
I can’t bear
Her contempt

But I miss her
Not just the little girl
Who loved me

Daddy’s girl

I miss the woman
The little girl
All grown up
Spite and all

Dammit if I don’t love her
As much as her mother

She said she wanted to find him
The love caught on the other side
When the fog fell

But I think it was as much
To escape the constant reminder
Of her anger at me

Not that I haven’t earned
Her pained gaze
That painful gaze

Whatever I failed to give
Her mother
I failed my daughter
More gravely

Caught up in my own shortcomings
As a husband
As a father

All her life
I couldn’t give her
All I wanted to give

It was far too late
When I realized

All she’d ever wanted
From me

Was the little spark
Behind the pain in my eyes
The little spark
Which caused the pain in my eyes
That little spark
Of love
That is a fire
In her mother’s eyes

I love her with all my being
But never felt good enough
For her
Never felt I could give enough
To her

In that fog of being
I was neither good
Nor giving

Those shortcomings
Ruled my being
They filled my eyes

Latent tears
Which never fell

I wish
I had the strength
To cry
To feel

I wish
I had the strength
To take the next step

But that is my shame
My strength
Has never been as strong
As my love

I don’t want to die
But I wish my body would hurry up
And get it over with

So that the woman I love
Can finally be
With the daughter
We love

I wonder why she lingers there
By the fog
By the bridge

But I think she wishes
Deep down below the love in her eyes
My body would just hurry up too

The Fog
Lions Gate Bridge
Stanley Park
British Columbia, Canada

Taken on location for Motive, Season 3, 2014

Sometimes even the greatest of loves can’t escape tragedy. This is a tragedy in three parts: a story from three points of view, each not understanding the complex dynamics of love felt by others. It begins with Enveloped, followed by The Fog of Love, and ends with this story.

Photographs tell me so many stories. It’s as if the words flow straight from some incorporeal essence connected with the image. Having already written the mother’s story in Enveloped, and the daughter’s story in The Fog of Love, it was only a matter of time before the Father’s story came.

It’s not quite what the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge asked for, but this is the way a photograph tells its Story to me.