As a lawyer, my father helped 
more than a few clients draw up 

their wills; yet he himself didn't 
have one. He believed that writing 

a last will & testament was tantamount 
to courting one's death—A memo saying 

you can come get me, I'm ready now. 
I don't believe he had any debts 

when he died; the house we lived in, 
paid for; no loans taken out or extended. 

Cuentas claras, amistades largas—long 
friendships based on clear accounts.

I wish I could have a conscience 
as confident as his—Perhaps 

only wind carrying back old, 
resinous scents like eucalyptus 

and pine will pass through it: 
not asking for anything, not

stopping yet, not chiding.

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