I remember walking,
with my healthy, young dad,
Holding his left pinky,
In my tiny right hand.
He was invincible,
A Sistine Chapel God,
Reaching to touch Adam,
Transforming clay to life.
Patient with his answers,
To my endless questions,
As I viewed my new world,
Safe, sitting on his lap.
I remember learning,
All the things that matter,
From long conversations,
And from his example.
Always so supportive,
Never suffocating,
Forgiving of my faults,
Quiet pride in my strengths.
Disapproved some choices,
Wanted an engineer,
Did not want a lawyer,
Or an academic.
I remember him old,
Frail and in constant pain,
Never complaining, though,
Faith in God sustained him.
Visited him and mom,
As often as I could,
When living hours away,
Talked with them every day.
They are both with God now,
Live in dreams and heart, though,
Still feel the strength that flowed,
From his pinky through tears.