The man of my life was my father . He wanted more than anything to see me happy before he died. He missed that then but...well, now this is a tribute to my Father and my way of letting him know his Princess has found true happiness.

His favorite artist was Norman Rockwell.

~*SKR*~

It Doesn't Need to be Christmas for me to Miss My Dad

(Written with love for my Dad, Lloyd S. de Vegter)

If I had known I'd miss my Dad so much on Christmas Eve
I would have painted all of us around his Christmas tree
The last real Christmas we all had when he was here and well...
We traded gifts, we laughed and smiled and couldn't really tell
That this was final for dear Dad...forever would we miss
The greatest gift was him in fact...his humor and his kiss.

His hat of red, suspenders too,the twinkle in his eyes
His call for Kate, and she's his bride, to bring his pumpkin pie
To friends he is remembered as the giving Mister "D"
When firemen came to help him get their cat out of our tree
Their kids are grown but do recall the painting that he did
On cheeks in stripes, as Indians...he'd play with all us kids

Our forts in wood and plywood to increase imagination
To work we'd go to help him out at the CSX Train Station
We'd walk to town to run the squares and never really knew
That history, art and culture would be on our menu
We never thought while walking of being in much danger
As confidence walked with us...Dad never met a stranger

From him great things were given to the kids that came along
From boats to trains and jets...a cardboard box was strong
To transport all his children, his eight and others too
Over mountains, seas and marshes out into skies so blue
We soared with groups of Eagles and flew to different lands
We walked to different drummers and even had the band

Of pots and pans and dishes...of spoons and skillets too
He led us into neighborhoods strutting with our fine gazoos
Of Boy Scouts there were many...of plays his art would grace
The stage of all our school days and never were they traced
For our Dad was an artist and the posters that he drew
Put shame to all the others and pride in us....we knew

That somehow he was magic and we were all his band
Upon this lifelong journey with our hearts held in his hands
We were eight and strong and gifted, with his wit and humor too
His pride and joy...his angels...his heart was ever true
To family, friends and strangers both animals and earth
He taught us virtues lasting of honor and its worth

To walk upon this pathway, respect your neighbors too
Uphold the laws of nature and walk in others' shoes
To me he gave his talent, of art with grace and style
To give, as he would have me do, to others that may need
A brush to make them happy and some paint to draw the seed
Of dreams with hopes and laughter...of Santa and his sleigh

And help to bring his memory back to us on Christmas Day
For Dad, he is the spirit, of what this season's meant
Of faith and hope...of giving and the happiness that's spent
On presents made or bought, at times and money gladly lent
To others for their children's toys and dinners for their crew
Dad never met a stranger and he walked in all their shoes.

© December 25,1998 Susan K. Rowse