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A tribute to my father, who passed away last year.

The church still shone with Christmas,
and personal touches of you were there:
A handmade quilt that you made,
plants and flowers that you loved,
recognition of National Guard duty,
saddened faces of lives you had touched.

You had been called home, and after this day,
I’ll not be able to touch your face,
nor see the twinkle reflected in your eyes
when you smile. I’ll not be able to hear your
child-like excitement as we celebrate Christmas,
the season of your birth and your death.

Yet, I did not protest or fuss;
It was time that your suffering end,
and this day, well,
it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Fifty degrees, the day after Christmas,
plenty of sunshine and blue sky.
It’s as if it were provided for our benefit,
to lift our spirits as your eternal spirit lifted.

Happy Father’s Day!

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