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My daddy was a giant, at least in my eyes.
A physician by trade,
With so many other dimensions:
Comedien, thespian, humanitarian.
Was there anything he could not do?
My memories of him are sweet,
Being dropped off in the doctor's lounge
while he made hospital rounds;
Waiting at the door's threshold,
Straining to hear the approach
Of those familiar footsteps.
Watching his lips disappear in anger
When I misbehaved, quaking in my tiny shoes.
But, oh, the laughter in our home
Shook the rafters.
He chose a mate who was every bit his equal,
But was smart enough to stand back
And let his brilliant light shine.
His death was totally preventable,
The result of decades of smoking.
I saw him shortly before his light went out,
A shell of the man he once was.
The tables were turned
As we tended to this loving man
Who nurtured us for so long.
That was ten years ago.
I still miss my daddy.

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