The memory begins with a scent,
Spicy, woodsy fragrance of his cologne,
A sense of warmth and safety follows,
Recalling the generosity of his affection.
National Geographics and crossword puzzles,
Books and newspapers,
A cup full of rubber bands and golf tees,
Sitting beside his oversized chair,
Are bits of treasured reminiscences.
I remember with trepidation
The stern looks for misbehavior;
I remember with delight
The crossed-eyes as he mugged
For the camera, or simply for a laugh.
I remember that for a large man
He danced nimbly, gracefully,
Turning mother, the love of his life,
Into Ginger Rogers right before my eyes.
Holiday dinners were his speciality;
Aromas of delicious dishes and delicacies
Were welcome precursors to his table’s delights.
As a veteran, his love of country was strong
His sense of honor stronger still.
There were history lessons
And morality lessons,
And not a math problem he could not solve.
He was decent and humble
Caring and giving
He was my father.
His memory still floods my senses
As his love still fills my heart.