Father

Dear father,

Father’s Day is always on my mind

so, these words are for you.

You left in a hurry

so, I wish to let you know

that my days of sorriness

grate my soul,

a bitterness, I need to let go.

So, I’d like to say,

your deepness engaged my heart

your chatter, loud and grave

your hair, grey and sparse

your skin, lined and crinkled

your eyes, brown and winking

your nose, thin and rounded

your face, always in my mind.

Knowing you are still around

not in life but in spirit,

a man with a powerful

personality

that grabbed me in

anger and futility

but no matter,

I still loved

your tempestuous agility.

You left in a hurry.

Your heart giving way.

My horror on the day

when I realized

I hadn’t forgiven you

for the times

we argued

unnecessarily

about heated topics,

disagreeing,

your loudness illuminated

overpowering me.

In a way that dented

my emotions,

my feelings,

when we stopped talking

after the angry haze.

But never forget you are my father.

A man who brought me up

with my mother.

A man who had many wondrous ideas

who had said what he felt out aloud

about things of the world,

about matters of the mind,

who believed in things unheard

which led to our heated discussions,

our wild arguments

severed by ideals of belief,

aggravated into angry feelings

when we chatted the last time

you were alive

on this maddening earth.

So, I say,

please forgive me for whatever I said

in the heat of the moment,

in spitting words

of hatred.

It was nonsense, not truth.

A mistake,

a sorrowful hurt.

So, Alas,

On Father’s Day

I hope you are with mother

drowning in chatter

on topics, you debate and

with a hearty endeavor,

I’m there in the room too

in conversation,

in memory of you.

I wrote this poem to express the way I felt about my father before he died. He was a man who spoke out. Sometimes he upset people along the way but he didn't mean to because that was just his way. He tried to be a good father to me and my brothers. Sometimes it wouldn't go the way he planned. His best times at fatherhood were when me and my siblings were younger. He vowed he would give us everything we desired and he did sometimes. He was good at building things which I will write about in another story. He built something for us once and he tried his best to carry it through to the end. I have great respect for him. I will always remember the days he drove us around and took us on holidays in our estate car to Ireland with my mother and siblings. Those memories are the best. We had some great times with our cousins too who my father said could come along with us for the fun of it. Those journeys in my father's estate car in the late 1970s were wonderful and cool. He drove us through Wales and onto a ferry and then for miles to County Sligo in Southern Ireland from Dublin. Sometimes we went three times per year to visit my grandparents who lived there. My father always had time to take us on these adventurous holidays. He gave us that and we loved him for it. My childhood was the best and that was all down to my father. He was the best man for the job who wanted to give us adventure, love, and wonder in our lives as we grew up. I will never forget him. I hope wherever he is that he is at peace and with my mother.

©️ Denise Larkin 2021. All Rights Reserved.

Also published on Medium.com