POSTED BY: Sidney the Third, in respsonse to A father to his son
As long as I have lived, there have always been three,
The great old father, his son, and then me.
And now that the father has moved along
we are apart,
You there, me here,
both a bit confused, both searching
I have learned from you what you learned from him,
My two greatest examples to follow – to become a greater man
To care for others over oneself,
To serve, rather than be served,
I have watched and learned practical skills –
Beware that innocent-looking capacitor, or
Don’t bend the pipe too much, it will break
And make sure you weight your hay bales with children
So they don’t roll
You are a Protector – teaching, but sheltering
To make sure I did not fall too hard, too far,
Always ready to lift, to help,
To share the burden
To lift what I could not
You have prepared me for all that you could,
Yet we feel lost – who could have prepared for this?
What skills could you teach?
What weight could you lift?
I know the words you long to speak,
“It’s OK, son. Don’t worry. I’ve got this one.”
But you cannot.
I have the shovel, and you cannot reach it,
But its OK, Dad. Don’t worry. I’ve got this one.
Your part in this battle is done.
I can wield the shovel because you showed me how,
You made me work,
Made my hands and arms strong.
I can lift this weight that you cannot,
And climb this mountain that you must go around.
But only because of you.
You have done your job.
I am ready. I can do it.
I love you, Dad.