Sunday, June 19, 2011

Fathers Day beginning to wind down to the supper time. Just turned the grill on and when it seems hot enough will tenderly place some of that ol' expensive cow parts on the rack.

The wife of my youth and I took a trip up to Dahlonega to see our friends at the Grisson Mine. Delightful folks with a wide range of mining, dredging and panning supplies, and their own pit mine which they dig out crush up and sell to the touristers in small bags or buckets to experience panning for gold themselves. What a thrill to find color in your pan.......of course if you have your own little honey hole where the only costs are getting there and a little backbreaking work, finding a small flake or nugget is even sweeter.

Our three kids all called and wished me happy papa day. I talked to Diana last week and I know she and the kids were treating Adam well today.

I kinda think I've posted the following poem before, but it hasn't been in any of the June archives I've looked at and it should be posted on a Fathers day.

Behind a Fathers Mask

To a small infant child, behind the mask of a father
is a person who is never wrong.
It seems he knows answers to all of her questions and
He is powerful and strong.
With a kiss to a boo-boo or a pat on the back, he
takes pains of the body away.
He makes pains of the heart disappear with a hug
and the words "I'm here to stay"
As the child grows older and independent she also
Grows away from the man she calls dad.
A relationship with him is just something she
holds in her heart that she once had.
Now a rebellious teenager who claims to know all
Dad never seems to be right.
And the long talks they once had now take the
form of a never ending fight.
So she leaves the masked mans arms to see
the world on her own.
And learns too quickly life could have been easy
had she only known.
After fighting the battles with him and saying
Things that weren't ment.
Thru all of the madness and tears only his
Love was being sent.
And now a full grown woman independent and
It is understood he was trying to be what she needed
him to be.
So she no longer tries to see behind her
fathers mask.
Now answers come without effort about a good and
bad past.
And she see him thru different eyes than a young
infant child and his identity comes thru.
He is not just my father, nor is he my enemy,
he is my dearest friend - forever true.

Oldest Daughter

We have no idea what kind of father we'll turn out to have been until we see what kind of mothers and fathers our children turn out to be.

The Kudzu Wife and I have been blessed beyond measure.

For that we can thank the children we knew.


Jean said...

I can imagine that beautiful poem has brought more than one tear to your eye.

Happy Father's Day!

kdzu said...

The last line always chokes me up.