Ode to fathers

Dear Readers: Below are just a few of the very touching and beautiful tributes you submitted for Father’s Day. It was so nice to read about all of the love, gratitude and humor you expressed about your fathers. Happy Father’s Day.

Here’s a Father’s Day poem submission by C. David Hay of the Villages, Florida:

‘Father’s Specter’

The shadow of my father

Gives measure to my stride;

I strove to be the man he was until the day he died.

Little boys grow up too fast, I never stopped to see

The aging eyes that misted with his love for me.

Life’s seasons are perennial,

The son becomes the man;

Still I hear his challenge — “Be the best you can.”

The world is full of wonders that only a father can teach;

He pointed to the stars — And showed me how to reach.

— C. David Hay

You asked for Father’s Day submissions, well, here is mine. I wrote this several years ago when I was looking at old family photos and realized that Daddy had changed and I never even noticed. I think he would be surprised to find it published in your column on or around Father’s Day:

‘Daddy’s Face’

A crumpled old picture

Stares up at me

With my young father,

My sister and me.

Daddy’s young face is

Smooth and serene,

Not lined with the wrinkles

That tell what he’s seen.

See, I didn’t notice, the lines sweep his face

I just saw my daddy, not old in his place.

But now he’s a Grandpa, and great as can be

And Grandpas need wrinkles for grandkids to see. But he’s still my Daddy

And daddies must change, from Daddy to Grandpa, Dads have to have range, so although the picture

Is what I still see, we’ve grown up, my Daddy, my sister and me.

— Daddy’s girl in Wyoming

Dear Annie: As Father`s Day approaches, I thought you might like to reprint an item translated from a Dutch magazine. This nostalgic gem appeared in The News-Times in Danbury, Conn. I have cherished it for many years and hope you will share it with your readers. — Donna W., Washington, D.C.


Four Years: My daddy can do anything.

Seven Years: My dad knows a lot, a whole lot.

Eight Years: My father doesn`t know quite everything.

12 Years: Oh, well, naturally Father doesn`t know that, either.

14 Years: Father? Hopelessly old-fashioned.

21 Years: Oh, that man is out-of-date. What did you expect?

25 Years: He knows a little bit about it, but not much.

30 Years: Maybe we ought to find out what Dad thinks.

35 Years: A little patience. Let`s get Dad`s assessment before we do anything.

50 Years: I wonder what Dad would have thought about that. He was pretty smart.

60 Years: My dad knew absolutely everything!

65 Years: I`d give anything if Dad were here so I could talk this over with him. I really miss that man.

Dear Donna: Love it! I saw myself in every line.