I AM NOT A DAD. A poem for dad, from a daughter, wife, and mother.

It’s been a while since I have written. My heart got in the way of my good intentions. There has been a lot happening, which I will share with you over the next few weeks. Writers block is a real thing. Not because your mind is empty, but because it is overflowing. I focused only on my dad the other day when I went for a walk. It was good. This poem poured out. Happy Father’s Day..

I Am Not a Dad.

I am not a dad, but I am a daughter, and I know the bond between the two. This girl has yet to meet a man with strength as strong as you. You set me on your shoulders,  Your trust in me shone through; you taught me how to throw a ball, better than any boy could do.

You were the head and not the tail, your work was never done; yet you showed up to cheer me on whenever the time would come. I was proud of you, and you were proud of me; I could see it in your eyes. You were my humble hero, you were my dad, my pride.

I am not a dad, but I am a spouse and I have learned a thing or two. I’ve learned a man was once a son with a bond like me and you. He watched his dad with eyes so big, he wondered if he could, be the boy, and then the man his father thought he should.

Young at heart, that boy grew up into a wounded man. His heart had weathered much, that he didn’t understand. I watched this man become a dad, the only way he knew. With a heart that overflowed with love so miraculous and new.

This man had grow into his dad and stepped into his shoes, His well-intentioned heart was led, by what his dad would do. Sometimes he thought he failed them, the father of my kids. At times he thought he made mistakes, though his children never did.  

I am not a dad, but I am a mom, with two children of my own. And I know the fear and wonder, of all of the unknowns. I know a father’s heart from the outside looking in, and I can see a mother’s heart, is similar within.

I know it hurt my father when I would fall or cry; to watch my children try and fail just tears me up inside. My dad, he wanted the best for me, and to this I can relate. We pray OUR HOPE is bigger than all of our mistakes.

I’m not a dad, but I am a girl, who misses her dad today. I want to share my heart with him, There’s so much I want to say. He told me he was proud of me, three weeks before he died. I wonder if he heard my words,  or if he only heard me cry.

Did he know he was my hero? I pray and hope he did. I want to tell him he was brave, and how proud I am of him.

If he ever felt he failed me, I never, ever knew. There were times when I was growing up, I thought I failed him too.

My dad, he was my mentor; an image of a man, who set me on his shoulders, and led me, with strong hands.

I love you dad, I hope you know, I see you in my dreams. Today I celebrate our bond, your life… your legacy.

written by Lesley Casner

 

 
 
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