Father’s Day

There are constant reminders everywhere right now to remember to buy that special gift for your father.  I find them hard to listen to, even when my dad was  alive.  Now three years after losing him, it’s almost annoying.   I never had an issue remembering my dad.  And he only wanted to be loved and remembered as the dad that he was. 

My Dad's wooden Santa

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I gave him my words one year to express my love. 

“I’ve riden on trains.
   Most people on boats, buses, planes
But I have risen trains
  For fun mostly
Never any real place to go
  Just to stand balancing
With the rhythm of the wheels
  And to listen to the music
That a train can compose.

But I’ve riden on trains
  Just to ride wherever
My father rides.
  For my dad rides trains
And drives trains.

I love trains
  But more than that
    I love my dad who drives them.”

I framed this poem for my dad and he hung it in all the houses that he lived in.  I got it back three years ago and now it hangs in my house. 

I also have some of his artwork in my house which is a wonderful thing.   He became a wood worker after he retired. 

I was there on the day that my dad retired. He had no regrets. He did get his gold watch with a train for the second hand which I now have.   He commented to me when I asked him how he felt, that he could now get the smell off the trains off of him.

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