Father

There comes a time in a man’s life where feeling and showing emotion is unavoidable. For an aging chap such as me, becoming fast aware about precariousness of existence and value of close personal relationships, time to feel and say what has been supressed for so long is now.

I didn’t have a very close relationship with my dad growing up. It was typical of the times I grew up in that, unlike today, fathers were unavailable, both physically and emotionally. Patriarchal and macho culture did not allow for much love between father and son, instead emphasizing respect, and in adolescence, rebellion against fatherly authority. But we grow softer as we grow older, and I’ve become very close to my dad in the last 10 years since I had kids. I have come to appreciate the man he is and to even look up to him. This poem will express it much better.


Nice to see you father,

you are always a welcome guest.

Have a seat, put up your feet,

Take all worries off your chest.


Tell me of the things you did today,

Tell me who you have helped.

Show me places where you have been.

How did you play the hand you’ve been dealt?


I see in you grandpa’s sense of duty,

And grandma’s loving complexion.

Duty and kindness intertwined,

No wonder your grandkids give you so much affection.


Stoic demeanor and sunny disposition,

Weather for you is always nice and breezy.

What I love most about you, father,

is that you make life look easy.


Calm resolve and helping hand,

stranger to anger, worry and fear,

Content with every day of your life,

This is what I look up to, father dear.


This was supposed to be a happy poem.

I did not mean to make it so sad.

I guess what I am trying to say,

Is that I am proud to call you my dad.


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