The Deck

It’s been thirteen years, but I still think about him a lot
In the quiet moments of a morning, or standing on the deck he built, not forgot

Upon reflection, I feel him right there with me
The presence strengthens, matching my intensity

Right after the loss I’d break down at any condolence or pity shown
After more time, it happened only when I was alone

It now seems like that hospital was eons ago, even the code blue
My toughest times are at night, or quiet days when I’m alone with my view

Or when I see pictures of dad, or stand upon his deck
Knowing he’s not there to counsel, or help me reflect

I do feel his soul or spirit looks down on us still
It wasn’t just in the first days and weeks, that I needed his help to fulfill

My journey of being a good husband and father
His guidance was a true gift, and never a bother

The Senior Skins Game was on today, a perennial prelude to the Super Bowl
Dad and I always loved watching it, golf a common goal

I watched a little, but felt saddened and lost my resolve
Feeling guilty he wasn’t there, difficult to evolve

The legacy he gave me, enjoy life’s blessings with those you love most
Resonated more, as we were both equally proud of each other, not meaning to boast

My last visions of him, just after he passed
Were important and lasting, something later to contrast

I talked out loud to him, caressing his hands, arms, and face
The tubes were now gone, and he seemed much at peace

I tried to remember everything, leaving nothing to regret
Cementing a last picture, never wanting to forget

It was and still is hard to believe, he’s truly gone
Though time does heel all, I know he hasn’t withdrawn

I remember that last time, when we parted
We hugged goodbye, not knowing what life charted

I walked around the house today with my dogs
The pond is high, and the bass have quieted the tree frogs

When I look back at our house, I could see that his deck really finished the place off
I thanked him in my thoughts, and do so most times when I walk.

Thinking about that very hot summer, and the small contributions I made
I can’t help but wonder if he knew his time was near, a final parade.

He checks in on us, to see the kids growing and how we’re all fairing
I know he’ll be there to greet me when it’s my time, no despairing

So, if you’ve been blessed in time with parents who matter
Make sure you spend it not just in idle chatter

My mom, still with us, is the kindest and gentlest of souls
And I work every day, to emulate her role

The deck is there to remind me of more than he or she
It’s something, like them, that will always be a part of me