the ocean always dreamed blue dreams
My Dad
by , 12-16-2009 at 01:11 AM (2784 Views)
My dad died Saturday. The world seems a darker place without him
He was a quiet man, but he made his presence felt in so many ways. I remember running to hug him after work and the smell of his suit and he held us close. I remember helping him bring in logs for the fire and the careful way he arranged the them. I remember the food he made, the chili, the chicken noodle soup and the best potato salad I ever ate. I remember helping him wash the car-which was really just an excuse to play in the water. But he never minded. I remember the cookouts-the hamburgers he grilled, the watermelon he sliced. He always salted it. I remember how he took my kids swimming and to shoot off fireworks, which they adored. And I remember how much he loved my mother.
Mostly I remember that my father was like the mountains, and I am grateful that he was always there.
When we were little we went to the drive-in movies and we always fell asleep, my sister and I, before they were over. But we woke up in our beds, safe and sound.
And I know who it was who put us there.
I love you, dad. Thank you for everything.
Looking up I see with stained glass eyes
the Christmas lights that you put up
they bob and weave
at the roofs' low tide
inside we sit, our bodies stilled
our thoughts and reminiscences
pooling in the eddies of our minds
voices gather in the Cathedral air
strumming to the rhythm of your breath
murmuring a celebration of your wondrous life
washing your stilled feet with their
consecrated hair
you led your family through
a Bethleham dark night
no star above to light the street
no donkey's breath to warm your cheek
your hand upon the withers
without a word you walked
and kept a steady hand against the breach
and steered your ragged band to distant Egypt
and now we wait
our daily bread has disappeared
our hearts at breaking dawn
but there is nowhere we would rather be
than in this upper room with you.
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