FATHER’S DAY | PROSE POETRY

One More Walk With You

I still remember the moments, Dad

Photo by Arifur Rahman on Unsplash

“If there is any immortality to be had among us human beings, it is certainly only in the love that we leave behind. Fathers like mine don’t ever die.”

— Leo Buscaglia

I still remember and see you, Dad, though you have left us for a while now. And I recollect your delicate smile after a day’s grind as you trudged up the porch stairs, extending your labored hands, opening your heart wide — and embracing us as we jumped into your arms.

I still remember you were not only our father at home but fathering all day long, providing and wondering about us when away from everyone — getting on the phone when Mom asked you to straighten us up when we did something foolish and wrong.

And I still remember your grandchildren speaking of you, whom you cherished more than gold, touching my heart when I heard them say you made them feel loved. And how your foolery made them merry and warm — how you cooked up grub, the magical foodstuff that charms.

I still remember you driving me around town when I ruined my car, reassuring me about life, making me stronger and certainly wiser, and trying to make things better whenever things went haywire — and not forgetting those…