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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1788659-Of-Mice-and-Men
Rated: E · Other · Other · #1788659
I wrote this for Dad a few weeks ago as a Father's Day present.
    Here I am, 29 years and all, and I am who I am. How did I get here? I remember.

    You may see many things when you see him. You may see nothing in particular. You may pass him in the aisle of some idle store and not even remember his face two seconds hence. You may not pass him, instead stopping to talk. You may not even know him, and maybe he’ll stop you to talk anyway. You may never speak to him again after that, and you may not think he’s anyone important at all. But, you’ll remember, as I do. And as for important, I can tell you firsthand, he is.

    He is a person, a father; I, his son. Let me tell you a little about this particular relationship.

    He’s not as young as he was in the days of my youth, but then again, neither am I, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. We’ve both seen days we never dreamed of, both been through things we never thought we’d endure, and we both know what it feels like to not only endure, but to win, lose, draw, fight, fall, offer, and dare I say, beg. He may not agree with this, but life would be boring if everyone agreed with what the other said, don’t you agree?

  Okay, let’s dispose the play on words and also, with the similarities. Let me tell you about him.

    He’s always said that it isn’t the years, it’s the miles. That youth and skill will never match up to old age and treachery. That you should always ask “Can we afford it?” and “Do we really need it?”. Like me, he has all sorts of little mannerisms and thoughts that most people don’t understand. He taught me “East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet.”

    He loved my mother. Every breath and strand. And since her passing he’s done what he’s always done: tried to protect us, tried to help. And taken on her role as well. He’s comforted me in times of grief. His words, though not always gentle, always ring true. In all of it, I realized a while back, he’s only doing one thing: what he believes best for us all.

    So for all of you who don’t know, and for all who may never know, I give this gift to you. This gift of knowledge of a man who exists, who loves and guards his children, who is kind and especially liked by animals of all sorts, a man who has taken all burdens given to him and bore them without complaint.

    A man who I call my father. May God bless him.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1788659-Of-Mice-and-Men