Saturday, August 8, 2009

Dick, Dad, or Grandps

For Richard we’ve known throughout many years
We bid you farewell as we choke back the tears.
Your life was a common yet wonderful kind,
That touched many others in heart and in mind.

A hardworking man at Sohio/BP
Spending forty five years with one company.
Impeccable loyalty shown by this man
Who planned out his work, and worked out his plan.

His bookwork at night a point of contention
And so too Curnayn’s, or need not I mention.
But never a doubt of his love for his bride.
For fifty two years they stood side by side.

Four children he raised that call him their dad,
With memories fond, yet their faces are sad.
Recall family fishing trips up on the lake,
Or how on his birthday loved angel food cake.

The beer store on Christmas, a favorite of mine.
His ingenious way to make Santa incline,
Down the chimney with presents and all sorts of gifts.
Then through all the piles the children would sift.

Pictures were always a part of the plan.
Each year he recorded the merry old clan.
An Easy Bake Oven, and model airplanes,
Chatty Cathy, and Skipper, and Barbie their names.

Well his children grew up and grandkids arrived.
Keeping up with tradition he faithfully tried.
Then little white bags full of candles and sand
Became a new part of his Christmas eve plan.

The little ones playfully bounced on his knee
Loving time with their grandpa you plainly could see.
His silly talk duck speak they all loved to hear.
They’d rub on his whiskers and pull on his ear.

A lover of sports though in few he partook,
When the game got exciting he just couldn’t look.
Then he’d sneak on outside, away from the folk,
And greatly enjoy, on his own, a quick smoke.

A fastidious, punctual person was he.
He liked things his way, that’s the way they should be.
Five thirty for dinner and eight for the beer.
His peas touching carrots he just wouldn’t hear.

His lawn always tidy, his cars always clean,
Just that kind of person, you know what I mean.
A creature of habit, a faithful good friend.
On promise from him you could always depend.

A porch sitting sort, in his springy lawn chair,
Whenever ‘twas warm or the weather was fair.
He loved watching airplanes fly low and so straight.
Looks like Delta twelve sixty is four minutes late.

Fishing now more than his body could stand,
He purchased new clubs, some professional’s brand.
Most play for a lifetime and never do see,
That hole-in-one heaven, where he got to be.

Now looking back over a life such as this,
To omit the faith story would be quite remiss.
A man of strong faith, though boast not did he.
With ear bud and baseball, he’d pray the rosary.

Every weekend at Mass, never missing a beat,
Keeping time on the sermon from his favorite seat.
Singing softly, but sweetly, a reverent bow.
He received the Lord Jesus the way he knew how.

The words were not lost on his pondering mind.
He put them to use in hopes he would find,
His homeland forever where Jesus does reign,
In light everlasting, the land of no pain.

Now for Dick, Dad, or Grandpa the journey is done.
Once more fishing with Bernie, he caught the big one.
His prayer for you all from that cloud up above,
Trust in Jesus my friends and all learn to love.

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