The Year Pa Died


It was a very sad year for me,
Pa passed away in 1997.
He was so sick for nearly three whole years,
But now he rests with those in heaven.

Totally helpless in the end,
He relied so awfully much on me.
Refusing to go to a nursing home,
He held my hand and said, “Please let me be.”

The nurses came to check on him,
Record his vitals, like B.P. and weight.
But give him a bath, he said, “No.
No one undresses me except my mate.”

He did not always offer thanks
Or tell me I was still his prize.
That’s OK, I knew that look of love
That ever glistened in his dying eyes.

Together sixty-eight good years
Through up times, down times, high and low,
We knew each other’s thoughts and habits.
Oh, God, I still miss him so.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem