Alone atop an old ‘frig, sat
a mangled lunch box made of tin.
Something no one would ever touch
But I knew it’s secret meaning and loved
it ever so much.
I picked up the lunch box and I began
to cry. For it belonged to my father
who had recently died.
A blue collared working man, of that he
was proud. No, he didn’t make a lot
of money, but loved his family, he let
no put he or his family down.
For thirty years, he carried that ugly box
And though it was falling apart, to replace it,
He never gave a thought. It was more to him
than just some beat up old box. Long ago, a friend
had given him a new shiny box to celebrate his finding a
job. His friend was very ill, and before he passed
away, he smiled and said, "write your name
on the bottom and remember me at lunch everyday."
When my Dad finally retired, his friends gave
him a party, and said, “Herb, we’re going to
miss you. They laughed, “But now that you’re going
to retire; shouldn’t you retire that hunk of tin too?”
I took the box off the ‘frig and put it away, and though
it’s ugly and worn, it holds priceless memories. And the
water works began again, when on the bottom of the
box scribbled though it was blurred,
“This box is the property of Herb”
Mary E. Lacey
2009
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Regis
I think this is a beautiful and heartfelt tribute to your father. It is not just an ordinary lunch box, but a symbol of your father which is packed with memories and love
Ron
With Love,
Cindy
Georg
Beautiful expressions of memories we keep!
This one expresses so well of your love and longings for your father. I know the feeling so well. After my dad passed away, I was wearing his sweater and his jackets with me to work. I didn't even care if I looked odd to others. It was because I didn't really want to part with what was once belonged to him.
You have expressed these feelings so well in this poem. I applaud this!!!
Sandie Angel :o)
Fee