Musings by The Poet Loriet
To Dad With Love On His Fifty-fifth Birthday
When I came into this world
all wrinkled and red-faced,
the Army was busy training you
to fight in the Vietnam War.
It would be several weeks
before I would know my daddy's arms.
~
As a toddler,
I moved with Mom halfway across the world
to be with you in Germany...
but I still didn't call you "Daddy";
you were 'Sergeant Carroll' to me.
I wore diapers and combat boots,
drank wine with Oma and licked the foam
off of her beer,
learned to speak both in German and English,
and kissed my first boy (Jim-Jim).
~
As a small child, I got to know you better.
You were strong and patient...the rock of our family.
~
You taught us to help as you built two houses
from "scratch".
You explained to us what it was you were fixing
under the hood of the car,
even as we rolled our eyes,
anxious to go play.
~
You were always there to fuel our interests,
to learn all of soccer's intricacies
in order to be our coach...
to take time to grab your ball glove,
head up to the baseball diamond,
and toss us some softballs.
You also helped us to perfect our swimming strokes...
I owe my lifeguarding years to your
perserverance.
~
You were determined to show us the wonder
of travel,
giving us every (and I do mean every)
experience possible.
If there was a special event or festival,
we were there.
~
When I was an awkward preteen,
you were the one to talk Mom into letting me buy
a completely impractical and way too expensive
velvet, burgundy blazer,
just because it made me feel pretty.
I was in awe of your conviction and persuasion...
and, to this day, I remember the pride I felt
each time I wore it.
My dad thought I was special!...
and grown up enough for a fancy jacket...
Oh, how regal that jacket was!
~
In Junior High,
I found my forte in acting.
Practical Mom felt compelled to remind me
of all the starving wannabes that roamed
Hollywood's streets,
forced to "pump gas" while waiting for their
big break...
But, I could usually count on you to
indulge in what-ifs and dream with me!
~
When it came to academics,
much to my chagrin,
you checked every aspect of my homework.
You actually had the nerve
to make me do the extra credit sections with you,
until you were satisfied that I knew the material
per your standards.
When you taught as a psychology professor
at the local college
and I visited as your guest speaker,
I looked at the unsuspecting students,
and thought,
they don't know what they're in for!
You'll be the best teacher they ever had!
...We knew we would see your stern look
of disapproval
when we dared to whisper and giggle in church!
You had high standards...
~
But you were also fun-loving!
You sang all the current songs on the radio,
especially talented at mimicking Blondie in,
"The Tide Is High",
which never failed to make us giggle!
~
I owe my sense of humor to you.
You taught me to laugh at life's idiosyncracies,
to appreciate all people and keep an open mind.
You took us to art galleries and cultural events,
and to hear Timothy Leary speak on the merits
of expanding your mind-power through LSD,
not because you wanted us to
partake of strange concoctions,
but just because we'd never hear anything even
remotely similar to his point of view-
ever again!
~
At the dinner table,
you made us take turns reciting poetry of our choice,
because you heard that good conversation aids digestion.
~
...and it was your disappointment in me
during my rebellious teenage years
that hurt me the most...
because you and I are alike,
both Libras...
quiet, intellectual, funny peacemakers.
~
You have given me your spirit,
the spirit to take life by the reins
and to merely laugh at the detours...
the spirit to be uniquely "me"...
and to find MY OWN voice!
~
I am truly my father's daughter
and proud to be like you!
You have given me gifts...
unattainable by all the riches in the world,
but, nonetheless,
completely enriching.
~
I love you, Dad!
Lori Beal
all wrinkled and red-faced,
the Army was busy training you
to fight in the Vietnam War.
It would be several weeks
before I would know my daddy's arms.
~
As a toddler,
I moved with Mom halfway across the world
to be with you in Germany...
but I still didn't call you "Daddy";
you were 'Sergeant Carroll' to me.
I wore diapers and combat boots,
drank wine with Oma and licked the foam
off of her beer,
learned to speak both in German and English,
and kissed my first boy (Jim-Jim).
~
As a small child, I got to know you better.
You were strong and patient...the rock of our family.
~
You taught us to help as you built two houses
from "scratch".
You explained to us what it was you were fixing
under the hood of the car,
even as we rolled our eyes,
anxious to go play.
~
You were always there to fuel our interests,
to learn all of soccer's intricacies
in order to be our coach...
to take time to grab your ball glove,
head up to the baseball diamond,
and toss us some softballs.
You also helped us to perfect our swimming strokes...
I owe my lifeguarding years to your
perserverance.
~
You were determined to show us the wonder
of travel,
giving us every (and I do mean every)
experience possible.
If there was a special event or festival,
we were there.
~
When I was an awkward preteen,
you were the one to talk Mom into letting me buy
a completely impractical and way too expensive
velvet, burgundy blazer,
just because it made me feel pretty.
I was in awe of your conviction and persuasion...
and, to this day, I remember the pride I felt
each time I wore it.
My dad thought I was special!...
and grown up enough for a fancy jacket...
Oh, how regal that jacket was!
~
In Junior High,
I found my forte in acting.
Practical Mom felt compelled to remind me
of all the starving wannabes that roamed
Hollywood's streets,
forced to "pump gas" while waiting for their
big break...
But, I could usually count on you to
indulge in what-ifs and dream with me!
~
When it came to academics,
much to my chagrin,
you checked every aspect of my homework.
You actually had the nerve
to make me do the extra credit sections with you,
until you were satisfied that I knew the material
per your standards.
When you taught as a psychology professor
at the local college
and I visited as your guest speaker,
I looked at the unsuspecting students,
and thought,
they don't know what they're in for!
You'll be the best teacher they ever had!
...We knew we would see your stern look
of disapproval
when we dared to whisper and giggle in church!
You had high standards...
~
But you were also fun-loving!
You sang all the current songs on the radio,
especially talented at mimicking Blondie in,
"The Tide Is High",
which never failed to make us giggle!
~
I owe my sense of humor to you.
You taught me to laugh at life's idiosyncracies,
to appreciate all people and keep an open mind.
You took us to art galleries and cultural events,
and to hear Timothy Leary speak on the merits
of expanding your mind-power through LSD,
not because you wanted us to
partake of strange concoctions,
but just because we'd never hear anything even
remotely similar to his point of view-
ever again!
~
At the dinner table,
you made us take turns reciting poetry of our choice,
because you heard that good conversation aids digestion.
~
...and it was your disappointment in me
during my rebellious teenage years
that hurt me the most...
because you and I are alike,
both Libras...
quiet, intellectual, funny peacemakers.
~
You have given me your spirit,
the spirit to take life by the reins
and to merely laugh at the detours...
the spirit to be uniquely "me"...
and to find MY OWN voice!
~
I am truly my father's daughter
and proud to be like you!
You have given me gifts...
unattainable by all the riches in the world,
but, nonetheless,
completely enriching.
~
I love you, Dad!
Lori Beal
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To Dad With Love On His Fifty-fifth Birthday
To Dad With Love On His Fifty-fifth Birthday