I prefer winter and Fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show. ~Andrew Wyeth

Sunday, March 9, 2008

TO MY DAD: on his birthday


I remember you!
The young man
That lifted me so high above his head
That I had to catch my breath and breathe.
Didn't you read me Sunday morning comics on your lap?,
Tuck me in bed at night
And rub my back when I was sick?

You were the man who
Taught me how to make a bed,
Wash the family car and
Ride a bike.

You were young, handsome and tan.
(Mom said it was the "Indian in you.)
You were the first man
I ever fell in love with.

Was it so long ago, when you taught me
How to drive a car and waited, not so patiently,
For me to come home from a date?
Was it you who held my small hand
When I crossed the street?....
Then gave my hand, in marriage,
On my wedding day.

Do you remember
When you brought my old teddy bear
To the hospital
After my cancer operation?
Bravely joking with me;
Telling me everything would be OK.

Where did you go?
Could this old man be you?
Lying so still, so quiet, breathless
And beyond the boundaries of life,
Where I cannot follow.
Where are you now?
Do you know that we're here?

I loved you young man.
I loved you...old man.
But you knew that, didn't you?
So it's Ok.
I'm sad, but it's Ok.

My father would be 94 years old today. He died last year and didn't really know who he was anymore because of Alzheimer's disease. He was not an easy man to live with but my mother always loved him. He worked hard and took good care of his family. I miss the man he was.


1 comment:

Please leave a comment here.
I love to hear what you think about my blog. Feel free to speak your mind. Please be honest.., but remember your manners.