Four Years (now five) 17/30

Tom Sheehan  4/9/1946 – 2/18/2014

17th in a 30 piece series honoring and remembering my father

 

Four years without my father, and not a day goes by,

That I don’t still think of you, and want to call; that I don’t wonder why.

For years without my father, growing up and growing old.

I can feel you near, it comforts me, in times of solitude.

Four years without my father, as the layers peel back –  slow.

Each year there are more questions, and yet somehow there is more I know.

For years without my father, my mother raised us on her own.

Times with you were precious, and how the time has flown.

Four years without my father, kids are fabulous and growing fine.

If you could only see them, your expression would be divine.

For years without my father, most holidays apart.

Now searching to find meaning in the holes of my heart.

Four years without my father, what reminds me of you?

Palm trees and the taste of bourbon,

A fleeting whiff of tobacco,

And the sky when it is blue