Learning About My Father Poem by samuel aragone

Learning About My Father



LEANING ABOUT MY FATHER
I never knew my father
I doubt any of my family did
He was the symbol of authority
When I was just a kid

We only saw him from dinner time till ten
No long dissertations of how his day had been
He was my father but he could have been a stranger
He came from a very different generation of men

After work he'd pass by his local club
Allegedly to recuperate and to think
I'm ashamed to say in the few years I shared his life
We hardly ever shared a drink

Eventually the days of my youth were over
In time I moved away from home
After that I rarely ever heard from him
He had no use for the ‘useless' telephone

And then there came the horrendous day
When the physicians completed their reviews
The brain tumour was malignantly spreading
With stoicism he accepted the grim news

Weekly I took him off to ‘chemo'
He seldom had much to say
How are your wife and children-
That's quite a storm that's headed this way

As the weeks went by he grew progressively worse
But he faced his fate without trepidation or fear
Then one day he asked to see his mates
He hadn't seen them for over a year

And that was all he said
Till I sat him at the bar
Unnoticeably his old mates
Appeared from tables near and far

‘How's it going cobber
How ya been old mate
If you need some flamin'help
Don't flamin' hesitate'

And then the old man's face lit up
As animated conversations quickly flew
They were inhabiting a world all on their own
Speaking a lost language I hardly knew

Towards the end of his ordeal
He called me to his side
There were a few things he felt I should learn
Before he took his final ride

Look after your mother, son
Treat her with respect
Love your wife and cherish her
Hug her every chance you get

Keep your friends close to you
And your enemies closer still
Be a good father to your children
Somehow I know you will

And that's all there is to life my son
That's all there is to learn
We work hard all our lives
And shuffle off when its our turn

I don't know if the afterlife's a yarn
Perhaps what you see is all there is
But when the oil in my lamp burns out son
Let there be no more flamin' useless tears
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I called into the club to pass on the news
To my father's old mates who gathered round
How's the old bloke getting on they asked
It's been a while since he's been to town

My father's gone dear friends
He'll never come through that door again
And because of the lump in my throat
I couldn't say much more to these tired old men

Dad's loyal mates just stared in silence
Their world rocked by this unwelcome news
And as my father had always done
They became very reserved in their emotions and their views

And I realised that all I really knew about my father
I'd learnt in his final few coherent days
In his time he had been a knockabout stirrer just like me
Despite his outwardly quiet and reserved ways

He was not too complicated
Material things he treated with disdain
He bore his lot in silence
I never once heard him complain

But I remembered his final words
And ordered his friends a round of beer
And in my father's honour
They raised a final cheer

And I wondered if my dad had learnt
The last thing that he had left to learn
Would I be as brave and stoic
When it came round to be my turn

Was the afterlife for real
Is there someting at the end of the line
But in death as in life my father was silent
Perhaps I would learn all in God's good time

But if there's anything I learnt from my dad at all
It's to cherish life during the living years
And I learnt when the oil in my lamp finally burns out
I should ask please toast my life and let there be no tears

For I have run out of flamin' useless tears tonight
As I raise a toast to my dear old departed dad.

Thursday, November 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: nostalgia
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
TRUE STORY MY DAD DEVELOPED A BRAIN TUMOUR AND THIS IS THE STORY OF HIS LAST TWELVE MONTHS
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success