"My Father and My Mother"

My Father: I Never Promised You a Rose Garden!

My Mother: Well I Never expected a thorn bush either!

I always thought it was quite funny

I remember this on sunny days

when my parents were driving my Father would ask my Mother if anything was coming from the other direction and he'd say:

"Is it okay George?

And my mother would say:

"Okay, Hit it Henry!!!"...I still have no real idea why...I remember and I sigh...

as a twinge of sadness comes sneaking in.

There were certain people that my Father did not care for and he would say they were snobs ****** intellectuals"... as a child I got confused by that but now it makes perfect sense....it was said without pretense.

I had to figure it out.

Without a doubt...

I have many fond memories of my family...especially my Dad, who really sacrificed more than anyone I've ever known

who sowed every seed he'd ever sewn

Raised 4 kids till they were grown

all the fading memories that I blindly used to perceive as bad...

have now melted into the Beautiful

They are now the things that endear me to them... as I remember...they make me smile for a little while.

My Father has passed now some five years... was born a simple man of simple means...

times for him or more than just a little lean

Shoes three sizes way to big

stuffed toes with old newspapers

a dresser drawer....fashioned Sisters crib

He was a Phoenix rising from those ashes

And he was never out of fashion...

a Master Carpenter... a builder of my dreams...

raising beams

dressed in denim bib overalls and a white T-shirt...a red, white and black bandana in his pocket to wipe his sweating brow

And now....ever since the day he died

I have tried...but my Mother and I now have this distant love

so I know he's still guiding me, and us from far above

I never would have made it this far

way too many scars...

It's a strange feeling to feel so very alone

feel like I have no real home

in the world...

I am a caretaker of an apartment....

I feel he would have done

anything for me

he would never let me see...

such awful things

and be

down in such lonesome places

with strangers, such unfamilar faces

Or so I used to think

I've been at the very brink

Now I understand he wanted me to know

to struggle for my life and so I would grow

as even a thornbush would...

It taught me to be humble even when I couldn't walk

to listen and not to talk

even though I have my children, my progeny...

If sometimes I still can feel so very alone...

so no matter where my Gypsy heart roams

I carry those memories with me they are my church in the day...and in the night

I remember his final words

and I know.... it'll be alright

He taught me how to fight

and I am fighting beside him now...

I am carrying out his final wishes

I cook them in my famous dishes

My Father absolutely enjoyed the sharing of food...

Always was in the mood for something delicious...

So I sprinkle

them with his way

the things he'd often say

with his stoic compassion,

an understanding heart, so kind

I try to share his brilliant mind...

I am thankful that he wanted me and made certain I was here

His memory to me so dear...

with him I have no fear

Thank you Father

Thank you Daddy...

Love you Ma Cherie....

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