following is not about my Daddy. He died when I was five. Yet, he has everything
to do with my writing it. Years of fondling the precious few memories I have of
him and fantasizing about the kind of man he would have been had he lived, or
the kind I hope he would have been, inspired it.
Daddy used to work all day
always sang some cheerful song
measured it in the pleasures found
In what God's hands have made,
Which in this universe abound
And for man were arrayed.
He measured it in relationships
Of friends and family
And in the Gift none can eclipse:
God's Son on
No one who came to him in need
He ever turned away;
But you'd never know of his deed
From anything he'd say.
Sometimes at night I'd pass his door
And see the silhouette
Of him with knees upon the floor,
A scene I'll not forget.
I’d hear him say Bub's name and mine
And Mom's in whispered tone,
Asking for us blessings divine,
But never for his own.
Sometimes I'd hear him cry aloud
For some poor sinner's soul;
He never was a man too proud
To let his teardrops roll.
The years have flown since childhood days
And he’s no longer here;
But every day in countless ways
I ever feel him near.
He wrote his character on me,
Like words upon a scroll,
And left his mark indelibly,
Upon my very soul.
©2007 J. G. Braddock Sr.
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