Taking the baby doll out of my child’s hand

I feel a small amount of guilt

Her mother’s doll was her favorite

But I feel bad letting her think about what can’t happen

 

This furnace we live in

I’ll sit in my office and think about it

Just long enough to feel ashamed 

Of how little I cared before

 

I get to explain to my child

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren

But it can wait

 

She’s older now

Been in middle school for a couple of years

Our home smells like sunscreen 

A necessary evil

 

When she comes home

Her mother always has a snack ready

Something vegan, not by choice

By necessity

 

Tonight’s homework

Was to interview your parents

For health class

“What is a family?”

 

Her mother answers before I can

Something sweet and lovely

All I want to say

Is that it’s something she’ll never have

 

The hell we live in

Cooks me alive

My daughter means the world to me

And yet the world meant nothing to anyone until it was way too late

 

So I get to explain to my child

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren

But it can wait

 

At high school graduation

She gives me what feels like

The sincerest hug I’ve ever been given

Especially from her

 

She wants to save the world

Be a localized environmental engineer

The kind of person that can erase

The past two hundred years

 

My eyes fill with tears

Millions of them

For every one that’s proud of her

There’s one that is terrified

 

If anyone can save the world

It’s her

Her mother and I agree

She certainly saved ours

 

Headed out of the school

Another coat of sunscreen is applied

So we can get to our cars

Without sizzling in the sun

 

On the way home for cake

I fix the rearview mirror so I can see my baby grin

For what might be the last time

This is the purest joy that I’ve ever felt

 

Do I explain to her

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren now?

No, it can wait

 

Eight years later

One double major and an M.B.A. later

Two and a half boyfriends later

Three internships and a job later

 

My daughter and I go for a walk

There are flowers on the ground

And another, younger man waiting for her

Waiting for me to sit next to my misty-eyed wife

 

The man waiting for her

He is kind and generous

The type of man who makes me

A proud father-in-law

 

I can feel my wife

Her mother

Clutch my hand

I feel sunscreen liquidate the space between our palms

 

Then we all stand and throw white roses in the air

An old family tradition

Hopefully not the last time it happens

But probably

 

The wedding goes off

Without a hitch

My child is happy

I’m happy for her

 

Maybe she can save the world

 

A year passes

The furnace turns up

Who would’ve guessed

Hell gets hotter

 

Sweating on the sofa one morning

Eating ice chips in November

Her mother runs screaming into the room

With a card in hand

 

It’s an ultrasound

Of my grandchild

Her own beautiful 

Baby

 

I should have explained to her

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren

But now it’s too late

 

Six months later

The planet gives out

Lights go dark too early

The sun is angry and hot

 

I get a phone call

“I’m so sorry

It was too hot

She’s gone”

 

My son-in-law

Sobbing

Hysterical over the phone

Barely able to speak

 

Explains to me

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren

Now it’s too late

 

She passed out one day

On her way home

A block from the house

Heatstroke, they said

 

The neighbors ran out

And helped her inside

She was babbling

Driven mad by the end of the world

 

They took her to a hospital

Said she was lucky to be alive

She asked how lucky she really was

The doctor said “not that lucky”

 

The doctor explained to her

Why she’ll never have her own children

 

My pride and joy

My perfect child

The only one who could save the world

Would never know how much I love her

 

I say I’m sorry

The end of the world is funny like that

It’s always too late

To explain

 

Holding her hand in the hospital bed

The last thing we see is each other

Before the solar flare

Punches through the atmosphere like tissue paper

 

Now she knows

Why I’ll never get to have grandchildren

It was always too late.