This Can’t Be

This can’t be MY father’s picture,

With the old catcher’s mitt and ball,

And the folded flag of our country dear,

In front of the photo of a salty young sailor.

This can’t be MY dad’s memorial service,

Or my siblings crying beside me,

This can’t be.

But indeed it is, for MY father is gone,

The church is full to well overflowing,

With folks of all ages whose lives he has touched,

And every story told is one of love for my dad,

Filling my soul with more honor to have been his child.

And it is MY dad who served his country,

And MY father who helped hundreds of youngsters,

To be better athletes and better people,

Through his passion and knowledge of baseball.

And it is MY father whose final good-bye,

Is the presentation of ‘Old Glory’,

And A twenty-one gun salute.

And, I his daughter am so proud.