Father and son we’ve been since I’ve been born.
My father. Our father.
Paul’s and mine.
I’ve so much tried to look through your eyes all these years you’ve been gone.
You taught me the way of driving, watching.
Looking under parked cars for children’s feet on the other side.
Three evenings ago, returning from town, a car was parked,
blocking my view of the driveway.
It was through your eyes I saw color on the other side, and slowed to go around.
For on the other side, hidden to my view, were three neighborhood girls,
unsafely sitting in the driveway.
At risk, but for your vision to me.
I wish I could have told you sooner how very much I’d need you.
My whole life.
But I didn’t know.
Until three evenings ago.
When you saved three lives.
Happy Father’s Day, my guardian angel.
And guardian angel of the tender lives around me!
I miss you.
And remember Simon Stephens.
Bluebird.