The Danforth Anchor

Dad,
I’m so glad
your strong self
and presence and love
I once had.

But then,
I was grown. . .

Time to go out on my own,
a time of challenge enough,
when,
as I would not
have thought,
all too soon,
you were gone–

a shoulder, a love, a presence
I could trust,
though you sometimes could get
erratic, disappointed, or mad.

It was still
such a wonderful thing
to be born,
and to live,
and to have you as Dad.

When you went,
a hole gaped.

Long I bawled,
long I wept.

My whole world
was an emptiness:
I,
confused to the core,
and
Oh!
so so sad.

I now thank my stars
for the time
that was yours and mine–
that was ours. . .

And for your kind lessons,
our heady discussions,
your silly dumb jokes,
that made groan some folks
and your favorite cliche
of the half empty-full glass,

And, at last,
for this very hour and day,
when,
thanks so much to you,

I can be who I am,
and do what I do,
due in part to the gifts
and the love
and the cheer
brought by you,

as well as the clues
that were etched
by your life
as to
what to do
and what not
to do. . .

And, even as now,
I still sort that out
in my own pace,
and way,

by now, with each day
I grow ever more glad.