Happy Father's Day

My Dad was the solid wall I leaned against after my Mom's death. My Dad demonstrated real dedication to his life's work and continues to do so through his varied volunteer work at the age of 74. Sometimes I was privileged to accompany him to the office on Saturday when I could sit in his swivel chair or walk through the shop where Important Things were being built. My Dad is the reason for my near obsessive-compulsive behavior, the reason I check the stove burners are off half a dozen times before I leave the house. I love Big Band jazz because of my Dad. My Dad knows that sometimes I need to talk his ear off. My Dad's eyes are sparkling, laughing eyes. My Dad likes puns, really bad puns. He complies with my requests for letters because he knows I am a keeper and shaper of memory. My Dad reads my poems, believes the world needs artists, tells me about the poets he sees on the News Hour. I will always be my father's child. All of my father's children believe they are his favorite one. And we all are right in our belief.