Not My Father
For Father’s Day — The ultimate summer grill accessory: A wireless smart thermometer. Stick it in your food, cook as usual, the thermometer will notify your smartphone via Bluetooth when your meat has reached the ideal temperature.
He had no smart phone or Big Green Egg,
casual when he cooked, throwing together
the eggs and ham and toast he had refined
in his teens working the Abington Grill.
Things were simple. Leave your coat where
it doesn’t belong, he’d throw it on the floor.
When his dream of going into space scared you,
he’d remind you some things are worth dying for.
Never bought what he could not pay for,
so cars were not spiffy, but they got him
where he needed to go – house calls,
the hospital, Chinese restaurants.
Welcomed the invention of penicillin,
polio vaccine. Wished in retirement to join
the Ship Hope, share his skills and treat
the sick in Central America, Southeast Asia.
He longed for harmony among races
and ethnic groups, longed to see his kids
settled, the Phillies win the pennant. Hoped
that he had done some good in this world.
In the end, his heart dragging, wanted only
to believe in a heaven where he and his buddies
could meet up and play golf once again. No fancy
device for keeping score. It never mattered.
2 thoughts on "Not My Father"
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A beautiful piece. Loved “When his dream of going into space scared you,/he’d remind you some things are worth dying for.”
What a wonderful tribute, Linda. And loved seeing “spiffy” in a poem.