To My Dad

God forbid if the world ever forgot Mother's Day.
I am a mother, and I know full well what it is "we" do,
But there is a day that seems to get lost among the busy, early days of summer.

I mean we try our best to celebrate dad.
We try to think of what it is he would really enjoy or what
gift might make him feel appreciated, but it seems pale in comparison
to the accolades that are given to our dear Mothers.

For shame, that we the children have not celebrated as we should

the love and devotion of our Father's.

Of a Good Man.

I set out to look for the perfect poem for my Dad.
I searched high and low for a word, a quote, a sentiment that
would say it all, but I found only one.

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." MLK jr.


Which brings me to this my own poem, my own words, for my dad:



The measure of a man
who can really tell.


There are those that look to riches to say;
"That life was lived so well."


There are those that draw from strength
to judge what he can do.


But soon find that it is
fleeting too.


There are those that search for that fair maiden
standing by his side.


We say, "Behind every good man, stands a good woman"
Not once thinking, what that saying has taken from him.


It robs the good man, the good father, of
his best quality. 
To stand. 
To stand up.
To stand unwavering.
And to stand alone if need be.


When hard times come and the weight of the world is on his shoulders, he doesn't run, he doesn't hide.


No, I say, There is a cloth of good men that stand alone.
Not because of, but despite whether they have riches, strength, or beauty by their side.
This is what makes them good.


All of those things have added to the measures of this man,
but they are not the sum total of who he is.

Many a man have come and gone
Each trying to make their mark.


Laying a fresh path, a new foundation, a better house than what was built before them.
They labor, sweat, and toil to change their course.
To make the footprints they lay
withstand the test of time.


But only one I know. 
The one that was given to me.
I didn't choose who got to be my dad, like I chose who would be my children's dad.
No, he was given to me as a gift.
And without a doubt, 
that is what his life to me has been.


A gift.

I have seen him 
act nobly,
respond gratefully,
behave honorably
without moving.


He is the measure I use to describe, a GOOD MAN. 
written by NMS 2012

I Love You Dad.