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Memories of Dad
by Dottie Perkins
05/20/03
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I took a walk with you today, Dad,
In my memory.
I don't like changes, it makes me sad,
In my memory.
Twenty long years; yet I still see you,
In my memory.
Rocking on the front porch with Mama,
After eventide's dew.
You weren't much on talking;
Guess you were a thinker.
You'd spin a yarn; I'd swallow it;
Hook, line and sinker.
Thunder, you told me, was Sumner's barrels,
Rolling down the hill.
I asked a question, you gave me an answer;
I remember it still.
You picked berries; you peeled apples,
Planted a garden every summer.
When I was a kid and had to help;
I thought it was a bummer.
Dad, you were a gentle man,
In my memory.
The only punishment I remember,
Was the threat of your big hand.
We didn't have a lot; but we had enough,
In my memory.
There was always food on the table;
Even when times were tough.
Biscuits with molasses was our
Traditional Sunday evening meal.
Don't know what other people ate; didn't care,
Mama's biscuits were for real.
Most times when I would come to visit,
I would hear you say;
Look in the bread box; or look in the oven,
See what your mother baked today.
Many more memories waft in and out;
Some days, more than others,
I cherish each one; there is no doubt.
So do my sisters and my brothers.
I'm a thinker, too, Dad,
A bit of a recluse, as well.
Some memories are good; some are sad;
The words I choose are healing; in the stories I have to tell.
Still get homesick, I want you to know,
I can't help it; you understand all too well.
Dad, there is one place I'd love to go;
The Isles of England are calling me;
Like the distant ringing of a bell.
Just wanted you to know; it's not what you took with you;
But what you left behind, for me.
You still keep the home fires burning, Dad;
Yes, you did that and more.
Thanks for the memories.

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