Dear Dad

Happy Fathers Day weekend. On behalf of all of you who are, the best I can do is offer a poem, since I am not. Maybe one day...

                                                       Dear Dad.

Dear Dad, good morning as I honor you this day.

I think back to simpler times and the things you'd like to say.

'Be a man! Have a plan! Make your word thy bond.'

Sage advice even now. Your integrity went way beyond.

Older now, you and I and I see the clock is ticking.

Life has a way to bring the battles you choose for picking.

So often I vowed that I would never want to be like you.

Guess what? Lessons learned, youth has turned, my life path turning true!

I thank the man upstairs for all you'd say and do.

Over 47 years of matrimonial balance and parenting.

There is no rule book, time out, or corner for relenting.

Childless though I be it's very plain to see.

Your job was difficult, yet you always provided for me.

We fought, we argued, we cried, and we stayed silent.

We forgave, we moved on, we learned to ask and not get violent.

It's taken a while to understand what you meant.

Yes Mom is a high maintenance angel, together time well spent.

This day a moment to pause and reflect.

You always had the answer like a sun that won't deflect.

Insider, provider, consultant, teacher.

Friend, confidant, ally, and preacher.

Your hopes, my dreams, the highest slopes, or so it seems.

Love elopes, try schemes, the tightest ropes, reflect those beams.

Right or wrong not a part of this equation.

You volunteered for this job with nary a vacation.

No time to be selfish or seek isolation.

Every day you went out and earned your keep.

No day went by without a hearty meal with fridge filled deep.

So many hats you wore, even when angered, ever slow to swear.

You walked to your own beat, you never accepted defeat.

Even when you didn't get sports, not once would you cut me short

When a game was on the telly.

Me wearing a cap, glove, and suit, sweating until smelly.

Asking who played and not knowing a thing about the sport.

Me explaining play upon a diamond, field, or court.

Games until sunset when the dinner bell rang.

God forbid if we ran late, it would hurt to hear the harangue.

Early mornings with the announcement it was school time.

You did your job as you thought best, always in your prime.

Dear Dad, I know it makes you crazy,

This manner of loner like living.

Single in my approach to the point of isolation.

You once said to exercise caution.

Better that than to dine on a spent bullet.

Trust God and believe in yourself.

To one day realize the dream and fulfill it.

Don't forget the book upon the shelf.

Those endless summers of mandatory reading

When I'd rather be out at play.

The love of faded pages still burns to this day.

The pictures painted by the authors sway.

Has now been passed on.  That's more than okay.

You called the paperback a lesson of unconditional love.

You overcame health issues with life change and a miracle from above.

We have it better than most as we are still alive.

In many ways I am you. Driven, stubborn, on overdrive.

For what's in a number? What's in a year?

The daily dose of a lesson loud and clear.

The 100 yard dash becomes a slow marathon.

A day soon comes when you are free and gone.

For those who no longer can, or don't understand.

Thank You! Thank You for the privilege of teaching me your knowledge.

A degree in the heart for which there's no college.

As a teenager you were square

As a young adult too conservative I couldn't care.

Now in my 40's it all makes sense and now I'm there.

Life is about choices. Some good and bad.

If I choose to remain child free you were the best I ever had.

Life is too short and nothing is a guarantee.

Sailing from port to port this son now decrees.

If I could be HALF the man you were in my youth.

I'd never match the accuracy of your truth.

A martini tastes only as good as it's Vermouth.

Aged proper, goes smoothly, in perfect diction and couth.

This is the summer of my lifetime as you now face Old Man Winter.

Enjoy this day Dear Dad. Take a walk and be sure to not splinter.

To all of you who still have one take a moment to stand tall.

Before church, before the beach or brunch, go make that call!

Dad's are content to be left alone.

But that once a year call is something never outgrown.

Willie Martin

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED