You tore a hole in my heart my dear old Dad
when you left and went away
The dreaded disease you bravely battled
refused to let you stay
The calls home now are not the same
your voice I cannot hear
However sometimes, I sense that you’re there
and standing very near
I picture your haircut, that timeless flattop
colored in wisdom’s gray
Your beautiful smile and those calloused old hands
gently pointing the way
I see your blue eyes so filled with love
and wonder when they turn my way
What do you see way down the road
and what are they trying to say?
Your words I hear as clear as a bell
though inaudible in my ear
I think of the things you would have said
when helping my path to steer
Dad, you’re gone yet you’re always right here
I carry you in my heart
Somewhere down the road we’ll join up again
when we never have to part
David Kettler, 7/31/09
One day driving home from down South, I very strongly felt Dad’s presence with me in the car. We had an inaudible make believe chat like we used to do. That started me thinking about this poem. I wrote it a few days later. It was kind of cool to call Mom and she told me that she had been experiencing some of the same feelings.
when you left and went away
The dreaded disease you bravely battled
refused to let you stay
The calls home now are not the same
your voice I cannot hear
However sometimes, I sense that you’re there
and standing very near
I picture your haircut, that timeless flattop
colored in wisdom’s gray
Your beautiful smile and those calloused old hands
gently pointing the way
I see your blue eyes so filled with love
and wonder when they turn my way
What do you see way down the road
and what are they trying to say?
Your words I hear as clear as a bell
though inaudible in my ear
I think of the things you would have said
when helping my path to steer
Dad, you’re gone yet you’re always right here
I carry you in my heart
Somewhere down the road we’ll join up again
when we never have to part
David Kettler, 7/31/09
One day driving home from down South, I very strongly felt Dad’s presence with me in the car. We had an inaudible make believe chat like we used to do. That started me thinking about this poem. I wrote it a few days later. It was kind of cool to call Mom and she told me that she had been experiencing some of the same feelings.
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