As I have done many times before, I thought of my dad when I
passed by the yellow roses that greeted me as I entered the grocery store. They were his favorite flower. They were the flowers that draped over his
casket soon to be 43 years ago. Now I
have lived more years without my dad than with him, as he was only 42 when he
died. Though he died of incurable
sadness, the yellow roses always make me smile, as I think of how he loved to
laugh in happier times, as well as how he loved people. I remember his helping us write poems for
homework assignments. Here is one in his
memory:
Yellow roses, reminding me of you,
Yellow roses, packaged or in dew.
Lovely flowers tie me to the past,
Bring to mind questions to ask.
Grandchildren’s sweet smiles?
Laughed over baby’s births,
Cried at family’s trials?
Lives of service, music, animals, travels,
You so would you have enjoyed; no denial.
A father forty three years ago
You were to sister, brother, and me.
But at forty two years, you sought release.
Life was too hard, hope to scarce,
Troubles doubled up, heart too pierced.
Yellow roses trailed you, atop your grave,
Leaving dear ones’ hearts broken
At not being able to save
A father whose laughter sometimes
Brought yellow rose sunshine
In too brief measure
To lives he treasured.
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