Doubly Blessed

I have been thinking a lot about my dad these days. Ten days ago I visited his grave with Steve and Cheryl and my mom to mark the eighth anniversary of his passing. Yesterday was Father’s Day and today would have been his ninety-third birthday. He was born the morning after the longest day and like the midnight sun he lives on in our hearts. As I have been remembering him it hasn’t been one of his memorable sermons or his leadership of the church, but some of the tender moments shared between a father and son. The following verse was prompted by a recollection of the countless times we played catch – the mere thought brought a smile to my heart. I wrote the second poem a year ago, but thought it worth sharing again. Happy Birthday Dad and Happy Father’s Day too. You always were a double blessing.
I would often with dad play a game of catch
When throws missed the mark I’d go fetch
the ball, as dad would lean on his cane
letting me serve and not complain
mine was the joy, his was the pain
oh I’d play that game again
and again.
JPH 22-06-20
I drop by dad’s grave
and listen for the gravitas
of his character
that transcends the gravity
of our times.
He stood so tall
as he leaned on his canes
symbols of his courage
instruments of empathy.
And walking alongside
in shadowy times
you just knew
he knew
and when he prayed you believed.
I drop by dad’s grave
And touch the tomb
hoping something has rubbed off
and praying for more.
Seven years ago today we buried you Dad.
Still I hear your voice.
Thank you
Happy Father’s Day!