Hanging with My Dad
He hangs upon my office wall
A reminder that he’s gone
But also that he was once here
Well, not here, in my office, of course
He was long dead before this room, this building existed
But here, in my life, loving me
Loving his mother, his wife, his siblings
Loving life itself with great joy
He is surrounded on these walls
By artwork created by his grandson
The one who is his spitting image
But who has never met him
Except when he looks in a mirror and sees
Long legs and arms, spindly wrists and big hands
A thick shock of hair and a mile-wide grin
I remember he was an awesome dad
The kind of dad who teased, which I didn’t like,
But also encouraged me to read and to learn
Got me my first car and taught me to drive
Worried when I drove too fast, too far, too recklessly
I remember getting cards from him in college
With a $20 bill and a note,
“Here’s some mad money for you.
Don’t tell your mom. Love, Dad.”
I remember when he died, though I wasn’t there
I didn’t come when he called, but delayed
Was too late, always too late
I wish for my son memories of his grandfather
But it’s too late for that, too
___________________________
I’m sharing this today for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night, but it’s in response to last week’s Poetics prompt that I missed about hanging around.
Share this:
I think your words will keep your father alive. (K)
Your poem is a loving tribute to your dad, Linda. My mum and dad are both here with me in my study, not hanging but on my bookshelf in small frames. They watch me as I write.
I love this tribute on the wall to your dad. Pictures are really a great way to hold that memory for you and your family.
Yes, they are. I love all the photo albums my dad gave me before he died.
It is nice they are valued and appreciated!
Beautiful Linda! God bless you, my sister!
Thank you.
Oh my gawd Linda, you put tears in my eyes. So much we leave until it’s too late. I was an orphan who was lucky enough to be adopted by an amazing man. I loved him dearly. I made certain my children knew their father loved them. That was i,portsnt to me. I am so sorry your children never got to feel their grandfather’s hug. I have one grandchild, a grandson. He is 5-years-old, and my wife and I live with him and his parents, in a wonderful home his they provide. My health points to my not bring around too much longer, but I have willed myself to stay here as long as I can, to know my grandson, and for him to have tactile active memories of me. I hug him everyday, and look into his eyes when I tell him I love him. This was a very moving poem Linda, very moving!
Thank you. Give that 5-year-old a hug for me. 🙂
It always amazes me that someone can sit down and write something so excellent like this. Really great!
Thank you. And thank God that He trusted me with this gift of writing.
A beautiful tribute.
What a wonderful way to remember your father and sharing these photos with your son. Love the photos and heartfelt write.
Yes, often we lament things unsaid, and we’re left full of words in our sorrow. Thank you for sharing.
This is such a poignant and beautiful tribute, Linda.
Linda, reading this poem, I felt like you were talking about my own dad. And yes, did he ever love to tease my cousins, along with my brother and I. Last November, marked the 20th anniversary of his death, where I was able to good-bye to him, before he is death. I know, within your and mine hearts, we keep our dads alive, to share with others.
Therisa, Dads will always hold a special place in our hearts. Glad I could help you recall some good memories of your own dad.
A lovely tribute to your father. Too many of us lost parents too soon; my mother died of cancer at 39. I get that sinking feeling of /too late/, yet your poetry fills some gaps.
Thanks. Memories are all we have and I think it’s important to hang onto them and pass them along as we can.
Wow, very poignant. My grandfather used to send me money in a card for my bday with a note that said “mad money.” I haven’t heard that expression in quite some time.
Thanks. I think my dad was the only person I ever knew that used that phrase. Perhaps he and your grandfather were of the same generation.