"Oh, my goodness"

So often uttered
This phrase my father made habit
Often in surprise
Embarrassment
Sorrow

I can't remember the year
Young I was
Reckless I was
Echo of his voice lingers
"Oh my goodness"

I had smashed my thumb

Even in his upset
I recall weathered hands trembling
Love unspoken
Holding my small fingers
Thumb throbbing like neon panic
Gasping for calm
Undulating wound afire 

Then his six foot frame towering
Discipline spoke
Softly did we weep
"I'm sorry"
"Me too" I said between sniffles

Blood seeped beneath shattered nail
"Oh my goodness" he whispered

It was a small death
My first experience with loosing something alive
A fingernail dying
Waiting to drop off
Maybe...
Wanting to drop off
Merge with the earth
Maybe...

On another day
Many life cycles later
His casket lowered into the ground
My tears of grownup courage
Seeped across my lips
Tasting love's childhood memory
As I too whispered
"Oh my goodness"