'Dear, there's a picture of you at the old place, ' my wife said, <br />as she reached down <br />and pulled it from a box of black and white photos my brother had sent me. <br />In the foreground there was a image of me as a young boy. <br />I was wearing a checkered wool shirt, <br />and black leather hat with fur ear lappers. <br />I was smiling. <br />Not one of those smiles you see <br />on people when they are posing for the camera; <br />I was looking up at my father <br />who was talking to me through the open kitchen window. <br />'Do you remember what you were smiling about? ' my wife asked, <br />I took photograph from her, <br />trying to control the shaking in my hand. <br />I looked deep into the eyes of my youth. <br />'I am not sure, there was a lot to smile about in front of that window, ' <br />I said, talking through the flood of memories the picture invoked. <br />Dad was always there, watching through the glass. <br />Whatever I did, I could look up and see him beaming with approval. When I would come home late from a football game, <br />he was there to discuss my triumphs, <br />and console me when we lost. <br />When I had problems in school, <br />he was there. <br />I grew up basking in the love <br />that poured out through that window. <br />'Honey, here's another one of your old house after they remodeled it.' The window was gone...and so was my dad.<br /><br />Mahfooz Ali<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-was-my-dad/
