He was my Dad first. Years later he became Dad, Papa, and Father-figure to my children at a time when they needed it most. When I was a single Mom, he was there to provide us with a home, an extra heart to love, and extra pair of arms to hold. I worked and went to school, yet I rarely felt overwhelmed or worry. He picked up Katie and Robby everyday from daycare, playing his favorite jazz tunes on the cassette player in his car. The same tunes I would hear my children singing to themselves; music from a time before I was born, yet they knew most of the words, and hummed what they didn’t. A memory that still brings a smile to my face and a warmth in my heart. After picking them up, he fed them dinner, and on the nights I worked late or had a late class, he tucked them in. He did it all happily, never complaining, never judging the decisions I made that led me to his door. Did I feel guilty for not being there on those nights? Yes, I did, very much so. But I never once worried about my children feeling un-loved or neglected. Flashing forward twenty years, not much has changed, he is still there for me, with his heart and his arms out to hold me up. He still wears many hats. He is counselor, worry soother, story teller, merry making piano player, giver of much love …. Dad, Papa, Great Grand Papa. He is our beginning. We celebrate him today on his 89th Birthday, and we celebrate him everyday. His love holds this family together, his love is everlasting, a love with a beginning, a love with no end…. — with Norman Haas.
Published by cyndigowords
I have always loved the written word. As a child I devoured books. I have always found solace in reading and writing. Due to illness, I spend much of my time at home, exploring the world from my bedroom. Writing, sharing my own words, and reading those of others, is my preferred communication with the outside world. It is my adventure, it is my catharsis, it is my connection. View all posts by cyndigowords