The Father’s Day Poem
My son hid little homemade Father’s Day cards
around the house for me to find,
hid them several times over
so I could find them again.
One of them said,
“You are a star of men.”
Flattering will get you nowhere, son,
I said, but he and I both know
that most of the time
that’s just not true.
Another card said, “You made me
and I’m glad you did.”
I can only claim partial responsibility
for that, I told him. Perhaps I did some
engineering but your mother
did the heavy lifting. Still does.
And another one, the
card that was actually the first
in the series, said,
“Sorry for hitting you
on Father’s Day
I am sorry.”
And on this last one
he had drawn a monster
and I told him I liked it.
“That’s no monster, Daddy.
That’s you.” And we shared
a laugh over that one–
the apology card over
the picture of an angry
Father on Father’s Day,
the card that would
launch a whole series
of cards to make Dad
feel appreciated and loved,
and that might perhaps
earn the boy back the screen time
he had lost for hitting his father.
It worked.
michael jarmer 