Quiet man,
Always smiling,
Always joking.
All of my friends loved him,
Wanted their dads to be like mine.
Hardworking; never complained,
Slivers of metal in his beard
From the foundry.
Never let anything stop him
From supporting his family.
He always found a way.
Carried me on his shoulders
Everywhere we went.
I was “daddy’s girl” for a long time,
Until my teenage years.
Then it was like he no longer
Understood me.
Didn’t know how to handle me,
Or my wildness, my urges
To break free of him, of authority.
Always the protector,
Always where it was safe.
Recliner, TV, a beer,
And sunflower seeds.
Saturday Night Live.
Never yelled back
Loved us even when
Me and my sisters
drove him nuts.
He’s proud of the things
I have done for myself.
Sometimes I don’t think
He knows what to do
When I show strength.
I find him
in awe of my survival.
Tired, missing his parents
who passed away.
So tired, body aches
From a lifetime of
Hard, physical work.
Never complained,
Fixed our cars,
Mowed the lawn,
Shoveled the snow.
No, girls can’t do that.
Sometimes old fashioned
In his ways of thinking.
Loves to cook for everyone,
Happy when people
Enjoy his food.
Sauce, salsa,
He’s proud of himself.
This is beautiful Dena!!
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Thanks, Jo Jo!!!!! 🙂
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