Dirty Hands
I never noticed my Dad's hands
Except to comment on his dirty nails
Hands that did the work Welding demands
Until one day he was so frail
He had only gone to the Sixth grade
An uneducated man people would think
His attributes he always downplayed
From hard work he never did shrink
The doctors said it was Leukemia
His life would end in fifteen days
A shock, we thought it was Hypoglycemia
Strong at seventy-four; we could not meet his gaze
The day of his death I will never forget
For the first time I marveled at hands unsoiled
And realized I owed him a big debt
It was for me, those hands had toiled
Looking down I saw as his soul was set free
My own hands holding his were the same
He would always be a part of me
I felt love for him; for me only shame*
His funeral was standing room only
Friends and family came from far and wide
His family would forever miss him and feel lonely
On that day we could not hide our pride... we cried.
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Author Notes
My dad was a Welder by trade all his life and very proud of the work he did. He made a good living for me and my family. He loved to hunt and fish, to be outdoors camping, and in general loved his life. He had the gift of gab and never met a stranger. On the day he died I realized for the first time how much of him was in me. I looked at my hands and they looked just like his (sans the dirty nails :o) I took this thought and now when I'm missing him ,I look at my hands and know that he is with me always.
He died suddenly. From the day of diagnosis to his death was a total of 15 days. During those days he laughed, joked with us and tried to comfort us. I miss him so much.
Hypoglycemia=low blood sugar (he was Diabetic)
*I felt shame sometimes for him when I was young because I did not understand how much/how hard he worked for us. I felt shame on the day he died because of some of my feeling as a youth and as an RN I could do nothing to stop him from leaving.
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