I wrote this shortly after my dad died last summer, just never felt moved to post it, but now, for some reason, I do.
I’ve never been a poet
But the feelings I have must be recorded somehow
As a father, he had no equal
As a friend, no one to compare
I guess I’ll never know what
Sacrifices were made
Or what hopes and dreams may have been
Left unfulfilled
But we, his children and wife
meant more than anything to him
I treasure every moment of my childhood and my youth
Spent fishing, and playing games
And listening to silly songs
And I feel certain that the dream of having
A loving, happy family meant more to him
Than fame or wealth
And I wouldn’t trade those memories of anything
And the best part is I know he wouldn’t have, either
I’ve never been a poet
But the feelings I have must be recorded somehow
As a father, he had no equal
As a friend, no one to compare
I guess I’ll never know what
Sacrifices were made
Or what hopes and dreams may have been
Left unfulfilled
But we, his children and wife
meant more than anything to him
I treasure every moment of my childhood and my youth
Spent fishing, and playing games
And listening to silly songs
And I feel certain that the dream of having
A loving, happy family meant more to him
Than fame or wealth
And I wouldn’t trade those memories of anything
And the best part is I know he wouldn’t have, either
This is so beautiful. Thank you for writing & posting it.
ReplyDeleteI had thought about checking your blog on Dad's birthday, but I just couldn't seem to get there. I really wish that I had seen it then, but I'm glad that I saw it now.
Thank you for putting your thoughts into words.