When I was but a wee tot,
you pushing me in a shopping cart,
down the slide, on the swings-
carrying me high on your shoulders
was enough to move my heart.
Then as a bratty child
baiting hooks, casting lines,
coaching my softball team
was enough for me, to believe
that you were my rock-
you would do anything for me.
As a teen, you cheered me on,
let go of my hand and watched me
hold my own.
It hurt to let go, but I hid it deep
and ventured through to adulthood
where I hoped once again
to relate with you.
I am blessed to call you father,
to have had you here,
every step of the way-
despite my lack of showing
appreciation that you deserve.
I love that, through it all,
you are still here.
Love you 🙂
The Lines of Sight 