~ I Call Him Dad ~


I remember the day
my father took me on his lap
and read me stories from the Bible,
He taught me how to pray,
His instructions were given
in a gentle but firm way;
teaching me that I need to be polite,
to say please and thank you.

He taught us not to run out into the street
but to look both ways
when crossing at the light,
My father was a droll man
with a twinkle in his eye,
he would tease and tickle me,
 I laughed so much I would cry.

"Love each other the way you want people
to love you" he would say,
Then at night time when he tucked me in
he would pray
"Dear God watch over my child
and by her side please stay."

I have so many fond memories
of our days together
they were not all laughter,
and not all tears,
When I moved away from home
we always kept in touch
via the telephone,
"You are still my child and I worry about you.
There's not a moment that goes by 
I don't say, I wonder
where and what you are doing today?"

That dreadful time arrived all too quickly,
I have become the parent now,
 he my little child,
I struggle with my schedule so that
I can find the time to sit by his bed
and hold his hand in mine,
My eyes aren't dry and I search
the mind of God asking him,
'Why?'
He responded,
"You were one of the blessed. 
There are those in this universe
who have never experienced
the privilege of having a
dedicated father, a loving 'Dad'

God goes on to tell me,
 "We all have our allotted time on earth;
your father will leave you,
but only for awhile. 
On the other side
he will be met by those
who have gone on before him,
greeted with a smile. 
 The music of the heavenly host will he hear.
Angels he will behold. 
In heaven there is no pain,
and there will not be any tears
So squash all your fears.
  His memory will be made new,
thus, my child, be still and know
I Am the I Am
And when it is your allotted time,
he will be waiting for you.


Janice Bumbalough Marler © 2003
Dedicated to Roberta


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