Would that we could share our time once more, Father and Son becoming close friends.
For so long denied us by social convention, a definite divide of adult and child!
Then came a blurring of roles, a world in which we both belonged equal in thought.
Love accepted as a guarantee which allowed us to differ with confidence.
Taken without normal passage of time, creating a void not filled by the years.
Imagination and dreams attempt to compensate without interaction of self, unable to achieve!
My dear Father, so young at heart, so young in years had lived a life so full.
There was tragedy of war, upheaval of home, love unbridled for family and friends.
Intelligence, calmness in crisis, quiet counsel for those in need, such a waste now he is no more!
To try and emulate his finer points is an exercise in futility.
"Suffice to be blessed of his nature" my dear Mother pronounced.
A nature that has served me well, to sustain my own life and steer through troubled waters.
I am now one score years beyond his span, would that I become half the man. "My Father"