My Dad

By Bud Lemire 

 

Marquette, on Lake Superior, in nineteen hundred and seven
Was the birthplace of my Dad, but now he lives in Heaven
Born to parents with origins going back to France
An old barn, now collapsed, is where he loved to dance

Freezing were the winters, bringing so much snow
Cardboard boxes down the hill, at thirty degrees below
Summers found him fishing down there by the lake
Then there was the moonshine that his relatives use to make

When he turned into a man, he started a family
Two daughters born, they were Dottie and Nancy
Things didn’t work right, a union turned to misery
So he was divorced to follow his destiny

Drinking played a big role, causing his family pain
Once he woke up in North Dakota, when he worked on the crane
I remember his temper, and how he’d let it go
It bothered me as a child, but I never let him know

The doctors told him to cut out his drinking trend
Or surely it would cause his entire life to end
He had many warnings, but still he never quit
Until he got much older, the wheelchair is where he’d sit

I came to know him better, without alcohol on his brain
A wonderful man inside, when he was feeling sane
Our friendship grew in his later days of life
He was married to my Mother, who was his second wife
We shared reading books, Doc Savage and The Shadow all the time
They fought so many villains, who paid for all their crimes

I shall always cherish the times when he was near
Many times I still wish, that he was still here
Although we were quite different, I loved him very much
“Dad, I’m so glad you were here, so I could feel your touch."


In memory of my Dad, Clarence Leo Lemire 1907 - 1990

©2003 Bud Lemire

---

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.