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His face, withered, gaunt
His eyes cloudy, filled with a haunting vacancy
His voice weak , shallow
Seldom spoken these last difficult days

His hair is white and thin
His skin, so delicate and discolored
The strength has left his fragile body
And he lies, waiting

Yet I remember the man who was my Father
In my youth, so tall and strong
His eyes a deep blue with a depth of the seas
Thick, wavy, black hair tousled about his head

He walked with an unaware arrogance
Never knowing that all eyes were upon him
This handsomest of men, beautiful, confident
No one could match his brilliance, his seductive air

Unconscious, innocent of the power he possessed
The command he held with peers, a leader of men
A bright star in the universe, a life spent searching for answers
Politics, Economics, Religion…his battlegrounds

Yet, with all his perfection
He remained kind and true to all
Generous, loving; never an unkind word
A light for all who knew him

But the cruelty of life is worse for some
His body wracked with an unforgiving disease
Seizing him, slowly at first…a tremor
Then completely, leaving him helpless

Dependent upon those who had worshipped his strength
Lying in his bed, languished, weak
Nearly impossible to eat, difficult to drink
Each day descending further into darkness

Life’s cruelest blow to one so special 
Chosen by angels as their brightest star
So blessed to have loved such a man
Still loved, but pitied for the terrible loss

For such men were never meant to suffer this fate
To fade each day, closer to oblivion
He would never have chosen this
Broken, suffering silently in stoic resignation

Pride now replaced with painful gratefulness
He tries to manage a smile
His rigid muscles fighting the instinct
For he spent his life smiling

But old age has given him no peace
No time to reflect on the legacy he leaves
He waits as life deals its unjust ending
For one who was so great, so good

I hold his cold, thin hand in mine
Holding back the tears that burn
I will remember him, the Father whom I have loved
I see him walk away, wavy black hair, a cute little wink

As he leaves this tired shell, worn, used up
Once again becoming the unbroken man
I see him strut again, his quick, bouncy steps
As he climbs the ladder to the heaven he has earned

I hear the trumpets of the angels
Welcoming their special creation
A man of compassion and ideals
My Father, My Daddy…How I will miss him
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