Several years ago, I was tossing and turning in bed trying to find sleep. I began thinking about my Father who had died a few years earlier; now he has been gone from this journey for twenty-years. As one memory after another flashed through my mind, I stopped for a bit and focused upon a recollection when I was perhaps eight or nine years old. For some odd reason, I could not abandoned that one memory. I was compelled to get out of bed and 'frame' my unrelenting thought...I wrote these words:
Catching Up With Dad
I raced down the alley to a telephone pole,
I gave it my all seeking that coveted goal.
My opponent, my Father, my hero no doubt,
Would this be the day I win and then shout?
The races, shooting baskets and backyard games,
I competed against my model desiring the same.
Just once to win against this giant of a man,
To prove to my Dad I will and I can.
Once very close and another so near,
Was the edge his age or perhaps my fear.
Then one day it happened, victory over Dad,
Oh, yes the sweetness but why the sad.
Many years now passed and I race no more,
My Father is gone; no need to keep score.
I stroll the park and notice others at play,
I watch the young Father and his son this day.
They huddle and chat and point to a sign,
'Ready set,' and they are off to that line.
The lad tries so hard but he is not up to the task.
Yet time changes all and soon Dad places last.
Our changing roles all part of a plan,
The secret, you know, is to race while we can.
Happy Father's Day...may your precious memories of Dad warm your heart.
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