Dad.


Dad.

My Dad he was my hero, he also carried sweets. He always used to buy me special little treats.

He always smelled of brylcreem which he combed into his hair. He puffed pipes of tobacco and never had a care.

It was Dad who gave me money when I was running low. I only had to ask him, now it seems so long ago.

I found he had some medals from when he was in the war. He kept them in a tin box behind a cupboard door.

He taught me how to care for creatures great and small, but I got into trouble when I took lambs into our hall.

And if I had been naughty, my Mum would say to me, “Just wait until your Dad gets home, after he's had his tea”.

But he never got too angry he would just give me a look, over his old spectacles above his favourite book.

There was something just so special about my dear old Dad. Now sometimes I feel happy, and sometimes I am sad.

I'll miss him for forever and there and back again, He was so very special and life isn't quite the same.

But as I now remember I realise I was blessed, and I hope that he is peaceful in his eternal rest. Jan Millward©

©Jan Millward, 2018

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