Rochester, NY, USA
My father picks me up, his strong arms enfold me. His coarse hands rub my neck in that way that only daddy can do.
The work of the day is evident in his eyes, the tight lines show his tiredness. Baseball catch will have to wait, daddy needs to rest.
Baseball waits everyday! Why doesn't he play now? Daddy never does what I want to do.
My father ruffles my hair, I am too big to be picked up. His coarse hands rub my neck as only dad can do.
He works the same old job. He should quit and take another. If only he had a better job, like other fathers.
My father shakes my hand, I am going off to college. His coarse hands are weaker now, the years have taken their toll.
He works the same old job. He never quit, we needed him to work too much. If only I had understood... the times I never said "thank you"
My father gave up the best in his life for me. His hands are calloused, his strength is gone. As he reaches the twilight of life, I step out, onward and upward, on the shoulders of the greatest man in the world.
Vila: "I think I have just made the biggest mistake of my life."
Orac: "It is unlikely. I would predict there are far greater mistakes waiting to be made by someone with your obvious talent for it."