A Tribute to My Father
A Tribute to My Father
By Rebecca Barlow Jordan
Hes a giant ofa man, with big, strong hands
that hold your heart in his own.
The words he speaks are apples of gold
that can melt a heart of stone.
His laugh is contagious; his smile sincere;
His life is a book read far and near.
His love gives generous helpings to all;
For a father, you see, is always on call.
His thoughts are old-fashioned, and sometimes his clothes;
But godliness clothes him from his head to his toes.
He has numerous flaws, which he often speaks of,
but his family is blind and covers in love.
Long after hes gone, a sweet legacy stays
filling the hearts of his family with praise.
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Something for all Fathers, whether they are herE, or no longer with us.
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!!
What a wonderful poem Nona...Thanks.
I'm sure that to a lot of people my father wasn't a good man. He married and divorced 4 times and constantly moved from one house to another. He was a long haul truck driver and looked and acted like one. He had the Western boots, the packs of smokes, the cans of beer (as many as he could) and a Richard Petty style hat and most likely a woman or two at some of his regular stops. He listened to nothing but country music and in some ways was not a very good father when it came to raising kids.
Since he left Sunday night and wasn't back until late Friday night, I did see much of him and we never bonded. He didn't understand me and I didn't understand him. I was the only son, so I got some special privileges, but he wanted a son who was going to play on the school football team or baseball or both. But I was the kind of son who was much more interested in a microscope or a telescope for Christmas then I was an air rifle. He wanted an athlete and I was a bookworm. I felt his disappointment in me.
Still, when I dropped out of school the day after I turned 17 to joined the Air Force he was so incredibly proud. Then when I told him I had a high security clearance and worked with computers at a SAC nuclear weapons base he bragged about me to all of his friends at work. When I came home on leave he would make sure we would visit the truck terminal so he could brag about me some more. It was embarrassing, but the look on his face was priceless and worth it.
After I was discharged we had a falling out because he wanted me to take a factory job at the GM plant. Two of my uncles worked there and it was a guaranteed UAW job. I didn't want that. I wanted to take some time off, say a year or so and figure out how I wanted my life to be. Eventually we reconciled, especially since I did get a regular job an auto wiring parts plant. We started going fishing and spending time together and finally became father and son.
He died of lung cancer at the too young age of 63. It's odd because he developed a type of stomach cancer that metastasized to his lungs, so even though he had smoked for years, he died of lung cancer that wasn't caused by his smoking. The last night he was still coherent we were able to spend 2 or 3 hours alone talking. We resolved a lot of issues between us. There were apologies and forgiveness and so on. He went into a coma later that night and I didn't go back to the hospice at all, not even the night he finally died.
We had had our talk and our understandings and said our goodbyes and that's how I always wanted to remember him. I got one look at him in the coma and left. I wasn't going to stand around the next three days watching him fight to breath and wondering if it was going to be his last breath. Some of my sisters were angry at me when I wasn't there when he took his last breath, but to hell with them. It was between me and him, not me and them.
I love and miss him. Happy Fathers Day, Dad!
You're welcome Kav! Fathers are VERY important in their children's lives , and they work so hard , and sacrifice many things for their families.......Thank you all Fathers!!
This is absolutely lovely!
Thanks for posting this!
Wonderful, Nona
This is very touching to say the least. I'm so glad the hear that the two of you were able to resolve many issues before he walked on. I'm sure it took a big burden off of his heart, and yours.
Thank you for sharing this with us!
Oh Dowser, I'm glad you stopped by and enjoyed it.
Nona
Great poem
Thanks for posting this for all of us to enjoy and learn from
The line that struck a chord with me as exemplifying the relationship between my father and me and that relationship which I have with my three boys was
I am often taken aback as I have conversations with my boys, taking positions vigorously that I ridiculed when my father took tem with me. And it is rewarding and ironic, when they tell me that they do he same with their children.
Thanks for sharing this
His thoughts are old-fashioned, and sometimes his clothes; I think generation before us and generations after us will always feel their parents are old fashioned and "not fair" That's what I heard when my girls were growing up, now that they have their own children, I'm waiting for to hear "Nona, my parents just don't understand, they are just too old fashioned"
Nona
We went through that with our grandchildren, until they figured out that Grandma's rules were very similar (sometimes stricter) than those of their parents.
I know that your father loved you, dear friend. And I know he is proud of you!
A fine poem. I read some poetry now and then and that was a well constructed poem. Thanks. Happy Father's Day to all. Remember, Mother's Day is 9 months after Father's Day. Sorta.
I happened to run across it and really liked it !
until they figured out that Grandma's rules were very similar (sometimes stricter) than those of their parents. The same with my 3 grand daughters...they found out immediately that I was much stricter. (these are 3 girls that were "raised by wolves" before my daughter and her hubby Fostered and then legally adopted them)
Thank you Randy.
I'm glad you enjoyed it!
I'm glad you enjoyed it! And HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO YOU!!
Mother's Day is 9 months after Father's Day.
That's a joke. Get it?
Dear Friend Nona: Well stated.
Thanks for sharing.
Enoch.