MY DAD He gets up every morning, And thanks the Lord above, For giving him another day, To be with the ones he loves. He walks down to the kitchen, To get a bite to eat, He tries to over come the disease, That has crippled his hands and feet. He stops for just a moment, To think of something to say, To ask the ultimate question, "What day is it today"? He sits down at the table, His hands are shaking so, But he manages to eat his breakfast, How? I'll never know. He shuffles his way to a window, And looks up at the sky, He knows his days are numbered, and soon he's going to die. He sits down by his bed each night, And prays to God above, To protect his home and family, And the wife he'll always love. He holds on to faded memories, Some are happy and some are sad, But I"ll hold on to the greatest gift, The memory of my dad. © Alice Donatelli
Dedication:	my dad is 95 years old. he lost his wife of 72 years married. he longs to see his wife as soon as God will let him.