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I thought
I was past it and could live without crying.
But at times when I think of him, I break down in
tears.
My father was special, for he was my hero,
And now he’s in Heaven and free from all
fears.
He was
hard when I wronged him, but tender most times,
He raised all four children and never complained.
He worked with his hands; did not push a pencil,
But we were all cared for and always
sustained.
I hope
I’m remembered this way by my children,
For Dad was my hero, like him I would be,
I would love to be thought by my kids as a hero,
But at least be remembered with love and
esteem.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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