Rory Galbraith | + Follow Poet |
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Becoming a Tea-Bag Dad

Both of my daughters 
have married and moved on
both now have lives 
and homes of their own 

both their “old” bedrooms
now empty of them
their laughter 
and music  

still harbour their presence
their energy and love
and remain safe haven
for some of their “stuff”

there was a time
when their busy hubbub 
and end-of-world dramas 
enlivened our home 

kisses and hugs
were a daily affair  
their laughter and giggles  
permeated the air   

a time 
just moments ago it seems
when I was all knowing
and could do everything  

a time when they’d yell 
“Dad 
come quick
there’s a bug in my room!!!”

I was part of decisions 
there at events
my hand always ready 
to help and be held 

it was me 
on whose shoulders they rode 
as safe as can be 
holding tight to my ears

my peanut-butter and jams
“Triangles not squares 
and cut off the crusts”  
were the best in the land 

my sanction was sought 
for parties and sleep-overs
make-up and boys
and those have-to-have pierced ears

I was expected to unravel 
the mystery and magic  
of their curious and questing
open-eyed “Whys?”

it was me whom they coquettishly 
sashayed around
beguilingly telling me 
“Mom says it looks fine”

magical times
for me and for them
seemingly then
never to end

but   
in the blink of an eye
there is now someone else 
doing these things

I knew it was coming  
but it’s nevertheless incredibly hard 
to let go of their hands 
to wish them safe journey and bid them farewell  

I’m doing my best  
with this inevitable change  
it is after all where I want them to be 
and what I want them to have

and must hasten to assure you  
that this is not a bottom lip pout
a woe is me rant
a why should it be, it’s really not fair

but, when assessing my position
it is abundantly clear
that I have become  
a tea-bag Dad

the kettle has boiled
the cup has been filled
the tea has been steeped
and is ready to drink 

the tea-bag however
having dutifully performed
and essential to the process 
of making the tea 

no longer needed
is removed from the cup
placed on a saucer
and put to one side

that trusty old tea-bag
that made it all possible
lies discarded and forgotten
and off to one side  

so, if you are a Dad and your “babies” are grown
and someone else is removing that bug
is holding their hand, are those shoulders to ride on
and is telling them why

it’s okay to feel sad
and a little bit miffed 
somewhat forgotten
and off to one side

because, like me, you will know
in your heart and your soul  
that you poured every last drop
into being their Dad.

Copyright © Rory Galbraith | Year Posted 2023

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