The Ironist

Differing Perspectives

Upon Father’s Day

This Father’s Day, the dad is not on a pedestal. He’s mid-step, caught in the motion of leaving, watching his son become a man. A dad speaks- hesitant, unfinished, proud. There are five kinds of love here, and none of them are easy. This poem is not to celebrate a dad, but to remember one. Maybe your dad. Maybe the dad you are. Maybe the dad you’ll never quite become.

Oh please,

Be kind,

And remember me.

Many dads before me,

Tears in their eyes,

Have had to leave.

No, they weren’t ready.

Motion frozen, mid-step

Caught unexpected.

The cost, to them

So high

Task incomplete.

But it’s too late.

There is no time.

No going back.

One day,

One day soon,

I’ll be gone.

You’re on your way now

You’ll make it

I should have done more.

From those first steps

To where you stand!

And so much more.

I am proud,

Honoured, yet left behind

Job undone.

Oh please,

Be kind,

And remember me.

I did give

What little

Counsel I had.

Of the path to follow

It’s hard, I know,

To balance

What needs to be done

But always, always

Let go of the hurt.

Good luck,

Work hard, my son

I love you.

 

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