I won't be on site for some time. I'm writing the story of my father's life. He's 91 years old. In a power chair due to severe arthritis. Almost completely deaf and going blind. He can't read properly now and, being a very bright man, is filled with ennui. He doesn't know what to do with his time. I want to find out about his life. I know parts which I will put in this poem you are about to read...

My father's not a nobleman
Born a farmer's son
He has not the title Prince
In my heart he's surely one

My father is not tall of build
He's not a rugged man
But on his shoulders as a child
I saw the Earth's full span

My father is not wealthy
Has no Goods to share
But in my heart I know his worth
He is a billionaire
He is not a Wise Man
Has not those gifts to share
But he has a high IQ
Is bright beyond compare

Raised in the Great Depression
He ate the slop for pigs
Now he's a survivor
His grave cancer didn't dig!

He saw Okinawa
Eniwetok's grim atoll
Code named "Ivy Mike"
The Bomb landed on it's shoal

He went to MIT
Far 'above his station'
And he did it with a handicap
A 7th grade education

He is not a saint
He is far from 'pure'
But in my mind he's worth it
His tale should endure

So I will write his story
I believe it should be told
He is a curmudgeon

But he has a heart of gold


♡ Catherine