My Fathers Days
Radioontheshelf
My father wss a flamboyant man. A sharp dresser, a good looking fellow with a busy eye for the girls. He felt he was destined for great things. But in 1944 he met my mother. She was a buxom well built lass and not his usual choice but he was attracted to her and before too long she gave him the news that she was pregnant. As was the way in those days he hurriedly married her and 7 months later my sister arrived. His new found status did not stop his roving eye but as with many women in the forties she just put up with it. He had plans that as my sister got older he would eventually make the break and move on to his dreams. Fate had other ideas and a dodgy condom led the way to my arrival in 1953. His boats sailed away for a second time. They never returned. In his resignation to what life had given him he found solace in drink and whilst he never physically left us he was at the same time never their emotionally. Despite this and because of it my sister and I grew stronger and it led both of us to roads we may never have gone down if our father had occasionally put an arm around us and told us that he loved us.
On the day that I was born my father felt the storm
Of entrapment, closing doors and pleasure fading
He had been here once before when my sister though adored
Came to his home whilst he was out parading.
And though the drinking eased the pain there was little he could gain
From the liqour and the friends who heard his story
So he just soldiered on knowing all his dreams had gone
Wrapped up in thoughts of all his stolen glory
And through years of getting older his pain just made me bolder
And for that I always will show gratitude
His lack of true affection pointed me in the direction
To a place where music made me feel renewed
There’s a wiser man now coming, he’s whistling and he’s humming
Keen eyed and always working on ideas
Purposeful and hopeful assured approachable
With a glass half full of memories and tears
So now that he has gone I regret his only son
Was not able to point out that his rejection
Set me on lifes hard path never needing to look back
Not perfect but a lesson worth the learning-
On the day that I was born my father felt the storm
Of entrapment, closing doors and pleasure fading
He had been here once before when my sister though adored
Came to his home whilst he was out parading.
And though the drinking eased the pain there was little he could gain
From the liqour and the friends who heard his story
So he just soldiered on knowing all his dreams had gone
Wrapped up in thoughts of all his stolen glory
And through years of getting older his pain just made me bolder
And for that I always will show gratitude
His lack of true affection pointed me in the direction
To a place where music made me feel renewed
There’s a wiser man now coming, he’s whistling and he’s humming
Keen eyed and always working on ideas
Purposeful and hopeful assured approachable
With a glass half full of memories and tears
So now that he has gone I regret his only son
Was not able to point out that his rejection
Set me on lifes hard path never needing to look back
Not perfect but a lesson worth the learning-