Susan K. Rowse
Last Christmas with Dad
(Written with love for my Dad, Lloyd S. de Vegter)
If I had known I'd miss my Dad so much on Christmas Eve,
I would have painted all of us around his Christmas tree.
The last real Christmas we all had when he was here and well...
We traded gifts, we laughed and smiled...we couldn't really tell,
That this was final for dear Dad...forever would we miss...
The greatest gift was him, in fact...his humor and his kiss.
His hat of red, suspenders too...the twinkle in his eyes...
His call for Kate, and she's his bride, to bring his pumpkin pie.
To friends he is remembered, as the giving Mr. D...
When firemen came to help him get their cat out of our tree.
Their kids are grown but do recall the painting that he did.
On cheeks, in stripes, as Indians...he'd play with all us kids.
Our forts, in wood and plywood..to increase imagination....
To work, we'd go to help him out, at the CSX Train Station.
We'd walk to town to run the squares and never really knew...
That history, art and culture...would be on our menu.
We never thought while walking, of being in much danger...
As confidence walked with us...Dad never met a stranger.
From him, great things were given...to the kids that came along,
From boats, to trains and jets...a cardboard box was strong.
To transport all his children, his eight and others too...
Over mountains, seas and marshes...out into skies so blue.
We soared with groups of Eagles, and flew to different lands...
We walked to different drummers and even had the band.
Of pots and pans and dishes...of spoons and skillets too...
He led us into neighborhoods, strutting with our fine gazoos.
Of Boy Scouts there were many...of plays his art would grace,
The stage of all our school days and never were they traced.
For our Dad was an artist and the posters that he drew...
Put shame to all the others, and pride for us....we knew...
That somehow he was magic and we were all his band...
Upon this lifelong journey with our hearts held in his hands.
We were eight and strong and gifted, with his wit and humor too.
His pride and joy...his angels...his heart was ever true...
To family, friends and strangers...both animals and earth...
He taught us virtues lasting...of honor and its worth.
To walk upon this pathway, respect your neighbors too.
Uphold the laws of nature and walk in others' shoes.
To me he gave his talent, of art with grace and style.
To give, as he would have me do, to others that may need...
A brush to make them happy and some paint to draw the seed...
Of dreams, of hopes and laughter...of Santa and his sleigh.
And help to bring his memory back, to us on Christmas Day.
For Dad, he is the spirit, of what this season's meant...
Of faith and hope...of giving...and the happiness that's spent.
On presents made or bought, at times...and money gladly lent...
To others for their children's toys and dinners for their crew,
Dad never met a stranger...and he walked in all their shoes.