The Best Man

The Best Man

I was born into wealth, my treasure is my Dad,
years too young to appreciate, the fortune I had.
Naïve I assumed, that all dads were like mine,
coming straight home from work, and always on time.

I remember, as a child, hearing the teapot sing,
breaking the silence at four, every workday morning.
Instant coffee and oatmeal, before leaving the door,
dark sky to and from work, along route eighty four.

Ice cream cones at the airport, my sisters and I,
coming back from the country, and the pony rides.
Dad made our lives void of all worries and cares,
lined us up to say cheese on the hallway stairs.

Santa never disappointed my sisters and me,
our friends couldn’t believe, what fit under our tree.
I remember the heat and the spots I would see,
when Dad turned spotlights on the stars of his home movies.

This man drew the blueprint, and I think, safe to say,
what he has perfected, is how to live the right way.
His influence on me, is both quiet and strong,
I try to do what’s right, even if at times it seems wrong.

Long before I chose a wife, before I asked for her hand,
I’d already chosen my father, to be my best man.
I was blessed with three boys, but only got to name one,
 my father’s name was awarded, to my youngest son.

My goal as a father is to someday be,
as important to my boys, as my Dad is to me.
I pray that my sons, and over time we will see,
were born into the same wealth, that my Dad gave me.