Posted on 10/03/2001 10:37:51 PM PDT by My Favorite Headache
I know that we all have been touched by death and tragedy lately and probably all throughout our lives. But tonight I have taken the opportunity that I like to each year at this time. Write something to my father who passed away when I was 11 yrs old. He had a massive stroke at the age of 37 leaving him paralyzed on his right side and losing 99% of his speech. He lived with it for over 8 yrs. Gaining what he could back. But my childhood was dedicated to taking care of this man who I really only know from stories since I was 3 when the stroke hit him as a normal man.
He passed away on October 4, 1985. I have made it a routine every year to write him a letter or do something in his memory. I could not find a better way to do it than share it with my family here at FR. I have been a freeper since impeachment days with Gene McDonald aka"Seeking The Truth". I wish I knew the original date I signed up but I don't. It was the day he got sucker punched by a Clinton supporter down the road from my home.
Gene might know it from a few words I have said to him in private but you all should know that he became a father like figure for me this year when I needed one the most. I thank you for that Gene. So I give to you nowhere near the best writing I could ever do but this year's tribute to my Dad.
Thanks for reading.
Hunting October
Mindless action in a moment of reaction
You were here one minute
There the next
You went to heaven
And left this all so complex
The chill of the fall tightens my grip
Needing to get warm from the air
I can not see this sinking ship
I did not ask to go on this trip
To leave you sitting alone in your chair
The rush of that memory brings back that scare
To leave you sitting alone
With that stare
Leaves changing illusions
Season bringing in the confusion
Mirage me back into existence
The reality of you near me
Our family again becoming free
I know you longer now in death
Then I knew you alive
Yet, you feel right here
Still taking a breath
Still walking your stride
I gaze into my son's eyes
To stare at the autumn sunrise
I can see you behind the mystery in his eyes
His dreams are mine, and they are high
Life's reminder comes knocking
Same time every single year
Your memory to me is liquid grace
In the form of a tear
Pictures come out and frozen
A little bit longer of you to hold on to
It's on paper to remain, but still in wonder
Like a lonely hunter, when will I kill the pain?
I'm waiting here learning the tools
Waiting to get to heaven
I wander with the best and sometimes the fools
I have you to look out for me
Sitting with the one who rules
October is here again
Mom is back in-what could have been
I stand on guard with my son on my back
Living the life you couldn't live to see
Smiling to the sky knowing you are free...
To My Dad: May 26, 1940- October 4, 1985
Just think how fortunate you are that your own son can look into the chair and actually talk to you.
Bumpster.
Bob Z.
Like you, I feel my dad around me always and I believe, wholeheartedly, that he watches over me.
Thank you for sharing this touching tribute. Peace to you and your family.
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