He was born the year Babe hit 61,
Baptized by the Great Depression,
And confirmed in the South Pacific;
They jokingly called him the Million Dollar Baby.
No one knows why
Because he was one of millions who did what
Was right in a time when if they hadn't
Our world could have gone wrong.

And they expected not even a pat on the back for doing it.
They were beautiful.
He was beautiful, my dad.

He carried me even when I was old enough to walk
No complaints, no expectations beyond that I would
Do the same for mine.

I tried, but didn't do as well as he had done for me.

Now the Million Dollar Baby sits in a geri chair,
Cared for lovingly by his youngest girl.
Fading like his memory of who he was and what he did

But I will never forget.

Heaven will be lucky to get him,
I was luckier to have been his son.