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I still think of the last day of your life Lying there helplessly tranquil Looking so pale, and so frail Old, for the first time Withering away We held your hands like never before I swore I felt your grasp when I shouldn’t have They said you were waiting for me to arrive So you could say goodbye to all of us, in your only way And when our words were said and done Your breathing changed Perhaps you tried to speak But there was just too much pain To let us know that you heard us That you feel the same Each breath I feared was your last Even though I knew the end was near And then it happened There was nothing more to hear I still think of the time when I looked to the skies Trying to hold back the tears that were flooding my eyes While you stood by my side Strong and alive And even though you were dying inside You stayed you all along Never giving in Never giving up Giving us words of encouragement To remain close, to be kind, to smile To continue to exercise, and to be there for your child Simple lessons of life Yet things few can accomplish with any consistency I still think of you Even though you weren’t always in my life You were my father My mother was your wife You made your impression in this place And it cannot ever be erased
Dad had a lot of stories, he lived an intriguing life. The one I liked best was the time he was boxing in the Navy, and was challenged by an this arrogant marine who thought he was the shit. The match they had left the marine beaten by Dad in front of everyone. That must have felt so satisfying. But he beat him so badly, this extremley tall marine, that he was almost knocked out before the end of the match. That is respect only a man can feel. To quietly take on the challenge and insults of this guy, beat him the way he did, and then still give him respect at the end, in front of everyone. That is a lesson so many of us can learn from, but this was his natural way. To be strong when necessary, but never stop being truly "good" at the same time.
Dad really made an effort to be nice to Crystal. He really liked her. One of the first times he really connected with Crystal was at a Friendly's where we visited him in NH. We listened to some of his great stories and he was so animated and interesting to hear. He was an awesome storyteller. I always thought this. He never told a boring story. That night will always stand out for me.
I remember the first time I was able to ride a bicycle on my own, that last push he gave me before iIwas finally able to ride on my own, and I felt like I was flying. He assured me that I could do it, and I believed him. I think I was 5 or 6. If I remember correctly, it was a ten speed. It was so big I had to tilt the bike downwards just to get my legs over the bar, and Dad had to sturdy me so I could start off because my feet didnt reach the ground. So he got me going, and pushed me one last time, and I was off, riding into the breeze.