'MY DAD'S HANDS' - 'HAPPY FATHER'S DAY'

Father's Day is a special day.  A father has so many roles. 

'Fathering a child' is much different than 'being a father'.  Love, compassion, integrity, honesty, perseverance, maturity, responsibility and supporting a child is vital in raising and molding any child.  A father thinks nothing of it each and every day.  A father does it all out of 'love' and 'a desire'.  This is what a 'real father' does and enjoys the rewards of this child.  It is a privilege, obligation and an honor. 

I think many people have reflected back on their child life experiences and have wished they would have had things differently.  I think at times, we can easily look at somebody's father and wish they were a part of our lives.  Perhaps, not as a 'whole', tho.   We see just parts of a father's role in them.  But, at the end of the day, God has chosen the father that we have.  As we get older and mature, we realize that life wasn't so bad.  And, as adults, we have choices to choose from.  We can take the good things/good times that our fathers' taught us from our past experiences, choose to take the challenges we experienced and grow from all of them.

I feel we sometimes think we can shift our disappointments in life and direct them to who was 'in charge' or 'the head of the household' at the time.  Nevertheless, it still comes back to the fact, as adults we much always and ever, turn within, seek without blame and continue on our life's journey in a blessed way.  It is never too late to do this.  It is our choice.  God has provided us with 'free will' and HE will guide us along the way.

I pen this because I know that I have had some of these thoughts. I feel  it is not fair in the reflections of 'my Dad' to avoid this area, as well.  I know without a doubt that 'my Dad' worked hard, loved me and did what he thought was good with the knowledge and experiences that he had growing up.  I love 'my Dad'!

I would like to share a little about my father through the following poem.    My father is 97 years old.  I call my father, DAD.   

'My Dad's Hands'

                 'My Dad's Hands'

        Looking at 'my Dad's hands',
             tell a story of its' own.
   They remind me of so many things
that he has done from way back home.

          
 My Dad is up in age today,
         Well, very soon, he will be 98.
     He was always working hard each day.
        He worked from dawn til almost eight.
 
                              My Dad could do a lot of things.
                    He toiled in the dirt, coal, to greasing ole cars.
                              My Dad provided food on the table
                    that was good for us and, yes, even candy bars.
 
                                  He worked really hard on the farm
                                             and the soil he did till.
                                        Fields of wheat, beans and corn,
                                              this is what paid our bills.

                                         Yes, my Dad's hands are worn
                                             and a bit wrinkled and stiff.
                                         But, they tell a story of hard work
                                                  and this isn't just a myth.

                                       'My Dad's hands' are cracked, dry
                                           and the age upon them shows.
                                     But, with time, brings an awareness
                                          to things that are 'dear for evermore'.

                                  Yes, 'my Dad's hands' tell me a story
                                          that my memory will always 'hear'.
                                       Cause when I look at 'my Dad's hands'
                                             I will always think of our yesteryears.

                                                                    copyrighted by Doris Swertfeger
                                                                                                        2013

Until next time
God Bless
Doris