FOR MY
DAD ON HIS ONE HUNDRETH BIRTHDAY
I
feel you hovering around me,
your
presence, your spirit,
a
sense of feeling, like
fingertips
lightly grazing
across
the skin. Ten years
have
passed since you
shook
off the coils of
this
world. Your presence
is
not some ethereal spirit
condemned
to haunt some
place
of past transgression,
but
more that of a father,
connected
forever to the
ones
that he loves.
I
feel you the strongest
when
complexities clutter
my
life, my mind seeking
communion
with yours,
calling
out to you as a
frightened
child cries out
for
comfort in the predawn
hours
following a nightmare.
Staring
into the bathroom
mirror
I search for your
face,
in the creases on
my
forehead and the
crows
feet around my eyes.
I
long to hear your voice
praying
a blessing over me
before
I go off to bed,
as
you did for so many years.
Your
DNA formed and shaped
me,
yet, as each snowflake
is
created distinctly different
and
beautiful by God our Creator,
so
I realize that I am like and so
unlike
you, similar yet never
the
quite the same. Gratitude,
born
long before my birth,
I
rejoice in having walked
alongside
you for fifty-two years,
a
man of great faith, dressed
to
the “T’s in integrity and dignity.
Many
look upon your image
and
call you “iron man”, one
who
has been tested in life
and
proven worthy, one
who
is able to bear life’s
great
and heavy burdens.
As
for me, you will simply
be,
“my dad”, one devoted
to
God and to his family. One
who
loved me into existence.
Happy
Birthday, Dad.
©
2015. The Book Of Ruth, Deacon Bob Wagner OFS. All rights reserved.
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