My Fathers Hand (poem) by Larry K. on AuthorsDen

My Fathers Hand
by Larry K. → (All Poetry by Larry K.)
Wednesday, May 30, 2018 Rated "G" by the Author.

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I was blessed to be holding both my parents hands as they left this world. Hoping to find the right words to express that feeling of peace.
Memories as a child keep going through my mind. That first time you took off the training wheels of my bike...the fear of falling showing in my eyes.Then feeling the gentle grip of you hand, holding me up, easing the fear as we went down the street. Your hands so strong, yet so tender. Guiding me. Feeling ever so scared in the hospital as young boy having surgery. Cold and trembling waiting for the doctors to take me. Again, I felt the touch of your hand, holding mine...telling me all will be ok. Easing my fear once more. Your hands so strong , yet so tender. Protecting me. As a young adult, thoughts of confusion floating in my mind. Wondering if my life choices would be right. You sat me down, looked at me as you again gripped my hand...softly telling me God will guide me in the right direction. Making me feel secure. Your hands so strong, yet so tender. Guiding me. A father to be, pacing the waiting room floor, nervously waiting to hear the cry of my first child. My mind racing with thoughts about his future. Thoughts overtaking me, I felt your arm around me griping me with your hand and telling me all will be ok. Your hands so strong, yet so tender. Easing my mind. Years later I sit quietly at your bedside. Not wanting you to leave, yet knowing it is time. Taking your hand in mine and gripping it ever so tightly, not wanting to let go, I lean down and whisper, "It is ok dad, we will be alright". Your hands once so strong, yet still so tender. Now God blessed me with a precious gift, allowing me to hold the my fathers hand as he held mine all those times, strong yet ever so gently easing our minds. Our hands ever so strong, yet so tender.

Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

Reviewed on July 21, 2018

This poem was a blessing to me. I also remember my father's hands. Beautiful.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on June 2, 2018

A touching piece. My father never put his hands on me after I was in a certain age. And it didn't bother me because I was my own man quite early, something he gifted me by not being overly protective. He gave me his advice. Since I lived 1200 miles away and couldn't easily travel, the last time I saw my father was two months before he died. I didn't grieve his loss, because he had a good life and it just ran out. I'm currently planning a trip to see my mother of the same distance. I haven't seen her since 2011 and this trip will be hard for me, but necessary. I won't be there when she dies.

Ron

Reviewed by Sandie May Joyce (Sandie Angel)

Reviewed on June 1, 2018

A beautiful tribute to your father. God bless.

Sandie

Reviewed by John Herlihy

Reviewed on May 31, 2018

A very touching, very moving account of your relationship with your father through the symbol of the hand. I too have written about hands and how important they are in the connections between people. Not sure about the formatting, but this is well written, Larry and I feel blessed to have read it, having an inside look at the meaning of intimacy.