I remember my old man and what he meant to me,
It seemed like he was always there,
He died at 63.
I see his face in the mirror, each time I look at me.
The image of a long lost friend,
I miss terribly.
Ever since I could talk I can picture him.
He was there when I first walked,
With a great big grin.
He taught me how to ride a bike, ran right by my side,
Provided all the things I liked,
And wisdom to decide.
He taught me baseball, was my coach, my mentor and my guide,
Was the one that cheered me most,
With confidence and pride.
He presented life's uncertainties, taught me right from wrong,
We talked about the birds and bees,
Shared love of sport and song.
He helped me enjoy school work, the value of good grades,
He was there despite his work,
His long and busy days.
He laughed when I was happy, cried when I was sad,
Was always there to comfort me,
In good times and in bad.
The day I finished high school, his eyes welled up with tears,
When I got my college degree,
It settled hopes and fears.
The day I met my wife to be and brought her home to him,
I could see his pride in me,
His warm, approving grin.
The day I walked down the isle I was 33,
I remember his big smile,
And what it meant to me.
When my first son arrived my dad turned 59.
Despite his heart, he survived,
A grandson one more time.
The day my dad passed away it was morning, around 8:00.
I received a call that day,
In October '98.
I went to be by his side but he had passed and gone.
I tried so hard not to cry,
Keep my strong face on.
Lying there with a distant stare and sober peace of mind.
I couldn't help but compare,
My dad's past life to mine.
In his time my old man had very few faults to find.
The day he died my new clock began,
I was 39.
Copyright © April 2010