Sunday, June 15, 2014

Snapshots of my Father

Snapshots of my Father


Photographs of my father are few
and far between – tucked into albums
mostly absent of his presence
(he, working third shift 
through much of our lives).
Silent partner
in a loud partnership, still
his words (so very rare)
carried weight,
his silences spoke volumes
and we, in our innocence,
never doubted 
he would always be there
for us.

My recollections, spotty,
(mainly fragments of mornings
squandered in the garden,
an uncommon afternoon
 frittered away fishing or
perhaps rainy days playing cards);
even so I’m still taking snapshots --
seeking to preserve those patches,
scraps and snippets; to retain
whatever bits and bytes of him I can --
because we, in our innocence,
never once doubted 
he would always be there for us,
until one day
he wasn’t.

PSC / 2014

 You are missed, Dad.



  1. Pamela, this poem touched me deeply. As a woman who was abused and has forgiven, the idea of this kind of dad is beyond my personal grasp, and yet, as I read more and more of people (especially women) who had wonderful dads, I find the idea increasingly understandable. Probably helps that I found Lex, Riley's stepfather, who was an appropriate role model for a dad as her father was refusing mental health treatment...

    Those snapshots, literal and mental, so important. Your ending was simple, true, and wrung a few tears out of this old girl.

    Sorry I have not been over since you commented on "Me & V," but it's been up and down. Hope all is well with you, Pamela! Peace, Amy

  2. Oh, THANK you, Amy, for such sweet feedback! I'm so glad you enjoyed this. No need to apologize for a busy life. I completely understand -- as it seems that I don't "get out" to other sites for reading & commenting as often as I'd like. Be well -- and thanks!

  3. Replies
    1. Ahhhh, thanks, Nurit! So glad you stopped by! :)