Father’s Day

                                                                  

                                                                   Father’s Day

I don’t know what a father’s is. My dad died when I was seven years old. Before that he was seldom

 around, I had 2 brothers, 2 sisters my mom and neighbor friends. 

After he was buried my mom asked Elder Ray London of the Standard Examiner if he could give me a job,

  which he did, a paper route in the foothills above Harrison. I carried and delivered the papers after school

 and on weekends for two years. I gave the money to my mother. I worked a victory garden,  growing fruit

and vegetables for our family of three on a half-acre  In my spare time I did yard and garden work and

 helped the 20th Ward elders  convert our single family home, into a four-plex. I was the breadwinner in our

 family for the next twelve years. 

      My mother moved to Pleasant Grove, with my sister, to be an elementary school district supervisor.

  Where are the men? World War II had come and gone. Many were dead, as was my dad. As a thirteen

 year old lonely boy raised without a father, I asked myself other questions. I have asked why did my

 Dad die of a heart attack at the age of forty-three while the neighborhood kids had their dads. Wasn't I

 good enough for him to want to stay around? Why didn’t I get an allowance? Why only one pair of shoes,

 crooked teeth, a last name like Hickenlooper, forever made fun of?  I tried hard in school but didn't know

 why my grades were like the ocean, below sea level.

 My mother taught me how to work and take care of myself and in later years it paid off. Growing

 up a child without a father was hard, but I'm a grandpa now. Additionally, sometimes I’m told I have

 talents, pleasantries, and a future as an author.  

      I was luckier than a lot of fatherless boys, because of my mother’s love and teachings. 

Money was very tight at times, but I did not have to live in unsafe housing. She worked several jobs to pay

 the bills. She had  good supports from the church and family friends.I would not have chosen to be a

fatherless kid, but it doesn't have to be a life sentence.  

To be continued …   

                    POEM   

Fathers Who Didn’t Have A Dad

There’s no sweeter mystery than a son.

You hold him, fast asleep in your arms,

Wonder what he’s dreaming

At play his imagination takes him

Someplace you can’t quite follow.

His interests, talents take shape,

You can only guess what he’s thinking.

You look at the man he’s grown up to be.

Amazing  how everything came

 Together to make him who he is.

You see in him much you hoped for,

So much you never could have dreamed

 It’s all a part of your love for him.

It’s all part of why you’re so proud

To have him for a son on Father’s Day.

He’s smart, successful, independent  too,

 Like a golf ball he mostly fly’s right,

It’s flights voyage never boring

 It’s not just heredity.

Nagging had something to do with it too. 

 KARL WALLACE