He walks into the room and everybody looks his way,
He is a handsome older man, with just a touch of gray.
He carries himself perfect, with an air of elegance,
Not proud or arrogant like some, that makes the difference.
The restaurant we are meeting at, is lit so very dim,
But I can see the other ladies, staring straight at him.
He is so neat and well dressed, looking like a movie star,
And all the ladies watch him as he stops there by the bar.
I see the other ladies watching as he stops to linger,
And watch them poke their lady friends, and gesture with their finger.
I am so proud as I sit here, and watch their little show,
I'm the one he's asking for, but right now they don't know.
I know he'll make me feel so proud, when they know he's with me,
What they don't know, is he's much more than just what they can see.
Oh, yes he is a handsome man, as all the ladies know,
But, he is so much more to me, than what appearance shows.
He is the greatest man I've known, and treats me tenderly,
But sometimes in the past he felt he had to punish me.
I understand his methods now, and all has turned out well,
These ladies, who are watching him, should hear what I could tell.
And now he's meeting me today and it will be my treat,
The ladies are still whispering and wonder whom you'll meet.
You start walking to the table as you wave at me,
And as I smile, I also feel their eyes full of envy.
The whispers increase now as toward me you begin to walk,
I smile because you're twice my age, and now I know they'll talk.
She is so lucky they will say, I've heard it all before,
But what they don't know is this handsome man is so much more.
He's everything a man could be and he is my hero,
And as you reach the table I let everybody know.
How proud I am that you're with me and you're a total winner,
I proudly say, "It's Father's Day, Hi Dad, I'm buying dinner!"
-written by Poppy-
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL MY READERS, FRIENDS AND RELATIVES WHO ARE FATHERS, GRANDFATHERS AND FATHERS-TO-BE!
When I was younger, I thought that boys and grown men shouldn't cry, much less show that they can be reduced to tears. The tears were signs of being weak and a sissy, which a man isn't supposed to be, supposedly. This was even reinforced in my young mind when the Cure came out with the song, Boys Don't Cry, in the early 1980s.
But just this last June, I discovered that courage isn't all about trying to keep all the pain inside in check. Courage isn't all about trying to hide the tears. It's the opposite -- the tears reinforce the heart's courage. And I saw this in my father.
My 18-year old sister eloped and with it, I saw how vulnerable my father's heart was. My siblings and I were used to seeing him as an imposing figure and an iron-willed, authoritarian father.
For three days after my sister eloped, he wouldn't talk. He would just sit quietly outside our house in the dark. On the fourth night, I sat beside him and asked him to tell me what he feels about everything.
It has been years since I have laid my hand on my father's shoulder as we have drifted farther and farther apart while I was growing up. That night though, I sensed my father trying to control his pain and I wanted him to be able to let it out. We have all cried over what happened except him. All of us except him.
The simple touch and my words, "Dad, it's not your fault" broke my father's dam. In the darkness, he began to cry. I felt his shoulders shaking as he whispered, "Where did I go wrong? All I ever wanted was for my children to grow up right. Why couldn't your sister wait?"
I understood then why he preferred to be in the dark. By being there, he hoped to spare his family of a father's pain. His tears, though we didn't see them before that night, were there all the same.
I saw his courage, that night when my father cried with my hand on his shoulder, and understood his pain.
by Shery Ma Belle Arietta
My father passed away on October 16th, 2007. Till today, I miss him very much and it was only three nights ago that I was crying in my sleep at about 5.45 a.m. because I saw him in my dreams. I was crying so much that my hubby woke up and he shook me gently and said, "It's only a dream."
Now that dad has gone, today, everyday and each and every Father's Day, I will never get a chance to say "I Love You, Papa". I still remember the last time I told him that I loved him was in late September, 2007 in the sitting room of my home. Then, I recall telling him to take care of himself and not to worry about his dialysis. And after he started on his dialysis, I knew how broken and disappointed he was inside that he had to go through that tedious process.
I know that there were many times in the past where it might have seemed as if I had taken him for granted but I did notice, even though he thought I did not. I knew all that he did for me and the sacrifices he made for my benefit. I may not have said anything at the time, and I am sure that many times he felt that I really didn't appreciate him but I did even if I did not show it as often as I wanted to. From the time mom passed away when I was 11, I realized that everything papa did was because he loved me and wanted the best for me.
In doing so much for me, it meant giving up a lot for himself. Papa gave me more than I ever deserved. He was always there whenever I needed him and would drive all the way to my house when my boys were ill, just so to make sure that I was ok after taking care of them. He was there for my Jon every single break time and fought many battles for Jon whenever he was bullied until Jon was in Std 4 or 5. Each day, he would fill his Tupperware with Milo, buy Jon's favorite food for him and put everything in a basket and then would drive to school for Jon even though I told him not to do so. Not only did my papa love me very much, he loved my two boys to bits.
It is too painful for me to finish writing this post. It is past 1.17 a.m.when I am writing this and I am scheduling it for publication at 11 a.m. I wish, how I wish that dad is still around today and that I can celebrate Father's Day with him. No one is perfect, and papa had his fair share of weaknesses - so do I. He was not an easy person to get along with, especially in the last few months of his life when he knew that his end was drawing near. In my own way, I kept my distance because I did not have the courage or strength to face the fact that my papa would have to go soon to a place where he will not have to suffer. I wish I had had the courage to face up to those fears instead of keeping my distance in the last three weeks before he died. It was too painful, just too painful to see him suffer.
As I look around, I see many parents who take care of themselves first and their children second. In the eyes of those children, I can see a hurt that I never knew. But deep within me, Papa, I know you gave me more than I ever deserved.
My dear papa, during a time when so many people are blaming their parents for what is wrong with them, I want to thank you for all that is good in me. You instilled it in me with each hug, scolding, understanding word, punishment, and even though you never said "I love you" directly, I know how much you did, dad.I just wanted to tell you that I am forever grateful, and I love you and very much and I wish you are still around...
Papa...Happy Father's Day wherever you may be....I love you and I miss you dreadfully...
So dear reader, if you still have your father around, don't forget to spend time with him today and as often as you can....Fathers and mothers - they are gifts from heaven to us...
To all blog readers who are fathers, grandfathers and fathers-to-be, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!
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When the good Lord was creating fathers He started with a tall frame.
And a female angel nearby said, "What kind of father is that? If You're going to make children so close to the ground, why have You put fathers up so high? He won't be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping."
And God smiled and said, "Yes, but if I make him child-size, whom would children have to look up to?"
And when God made a father's hands, they were large and sinewy.
And the angel shook her head sadly and said, "Do You know what You're doing?" Large hands are clumsy. They can't manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on ponytails or even remove splinters caused by baseball bats."
And God smiled and said, "I know, but they're large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day ... yet small enough to cup a child's face in his hands."
And then God molded long slim legs and broad shoulders.
And the angel nearby had a heart attack. "Boy, this is the end of the week, all right," she clucked, " Do You realize You just made a father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?"
And God smiled and said, "A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle, or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus."
God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. "That's not fair. Do You honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?"
And God smiled and said. "They'll work. You'll see. They'll support a small child who wants to 'ride a horse to Banbury Cross,' or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill."
God worked throughout the night, giving the father few words, but a firm, authoritative voice; eyes that saw everything, but remained calm and tolerant.
Finally, almost as an afterthought, He added tears. Then He turned to the Angel and said, "Now are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?"
The angel shutteth up.
