Sunday, June 19, 2016

"To My Husband Jim, Whom I Love Dearly" A poem to my Dad by my Mom

If in the morning hours you stir
And the light from the sun
Illumes your face

I see there
The little boy
Who romped in free abandon
Without care
And swatting at the air
Became all things
That dreams are made of:

The Pitcher
The Catcher
The Star on Ice
The Hoop
A crowd, roaring with delight.

Dream on sweet boy, dream on.
Savor every moment of ethereal delight.

For all too soon
It ends with break of day
And you must revive the mask of morn
And show it to the world!

They cannot be— these dreams
They are webs of wonder, threads of nothingness.

You have fought a war.
And saw men die.
You have tasted
The bitter and the sweet.

You have loved, and lost
And loved and won...

...And held a tiny babe.

You have faced as many challenges
It makes you want to weep.

But You're a Man!
(and men don't weep...that is reserved for little boys.)

Dream on, sweet one, Dream on,
And be a boy again!

Marie Kelly, sometime, maybe Father's Day, to my Dad
Daughter's Note:

I remember this. Not the poem, so much, but certainly the sentiment. My Dad—God welcome him into Your arms and quickly if You haven't already—fathered three girls. Our boyfriends loved him! Often (and sometimes, to our dismay) they crowded around him to hear his advice on everything from sports to cars to girls to sports to cars to girls to sports...and other things my sisters and I didn't hear. (Actually, I did. To my shame, or maybe not...I eavesdropped.)

My Mom understood him more than I ever did. My sister, Sharon, understood him more than I ever did. My sister Buzzy understood him more than I ever did.

Why? Because I always wanted to be "his girl." The one he took out for ice cream. The one who held my hand. The one who bought me clothes, brushed my hair...and looked sternly at the guys who dated me. 

His real girls understood that, beneath that manly countenance? He sometimes longed to be the boy he once was. They got it, 'way back when. Now?  I'm started to get it.

I love you, Daddy. And I'm so grateful that you had Sharon, Buzzy, and, especially Mom, to understand you more than I ever could...or would. Dad? Remember were always, and still are, my hero. Happy Father's Day!