A Bittersweet Holiday

Why Fathers’ Day is a mixed bag

It’s that day of the year
when I’m glad I’m a dad
but I grieve that my own’s not around.
And I wish I could tell him
how deeply he’s missed
since we laid him six feet ‘neath the ground.

I’d love him to know
that my girls have achieved
and have made godly choices in life.
How I wish he could meet
the young man who proposed
and will soon make my daughter his wife.

There is much I would ask him
about real estate,
how to broker a deal on a car,
when to liquidate assets
or buy struggling stocks,
how to read a long putt for a par.

Seems I took Dad for granted
and wrongly believed
he would always be there to ask how.
I deluded myself
thinking there would be time
even when cancer furrowed his brow.

And while I am grateful
for all that he did
(not the least was to teach me to pray),
I’ve a lump in my throat
and a knot in my gut
as I thank God for Dad this Sunday.

* My dad lost his 14 year battle to prostate cancer on Novermber 4, 2008. I miss him more than words can say!http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlYBXJv78ZI