Thanks Jane :)
Yeah, he's drawn some really crappy health cards in the last 10 years, but he's dogged, so he's doing determinedly ok.

and tons of good memories, tons, he spoiled me rotten. (my mom on the other hand he made feel like useless trailer trash, so...mixed feelings overall)

I miss you Dad.

So much love ... and such longing...

Big, big hugs, Julie.

all-best to hom, and to you, Poet. This is affecting. r.

Still a god, Julie ~ the "infallible" thing is bullshit, I reckon : gods are gods.

Hugs back to you Kate...and you have such a happy looking family! I loved seeing the photos on FB

Thanks Jon :)

HA! yup, you nailed it Kim....you must have daughters ;)

"i could be on the boat with you, then
my feet small and bare planted on the plastic spiky deck
hands clenched to brass, stretching"
... moves me, indescribably.

it's a weird bond Kim. I'm almost glad I never had children. To be a god would be a scary, lonely thing.

You capture this well, how it is not all love all the time, pure goodness or pure pain. I am home now with my dad. One minute he asks why I don't draw "pretty" things. Another minute he leaves me a tender handwritten note. Something gives when they become old, when we become older too. The mix is just what you get. I would bet that he has never stopped loving you either.

You're right. Being a God is scary...way to much responsibility. Lovely piece.

To try to be a god is scary and doomed to fail. Mothers know this too.
I love this, Julie. ~r

How does one touch a god? Still, there is a tactile sense to this; feet, hands, teeth all compressing and stretching as the memory turns bittersweet.

"The thumping of your tremor coming in clear" as worship turns to compassion. Rated!

heart

You express the complex emotions your dad invokes in you so well. I've re-read this many times.

Your addition/edit completes the circle and makes all the sense. Love to you, Julie.

R♥

Daddy's girl. You both are lucky for the love.

I sighed when I read this. I so relate.

I miss those days when even a momentary love of a parent was the best moment of all...
...before I realized wanting that 'love of a parent' meant for me that I'd be chasing a narcissist forever, searching for that metaphorical hug and acceptance of me, just as I am...
Your words get to the meat of things so well.
I'm glad your Dad gave you some good memories ~ such a bummer for a mate (your Mom) when it's always all about the other one though.

i could smell the pesos, too.

Words that resonate in the heart of another woman who was once Daddy's little girl. The challenge was always to reconcile the different realities -- my mother's, my father's and mine. Excellent piece, Julie.

Lezlie

julie - brought a tear to my eye. This says as much about you as it does your feelings for your dad and I mean that in the most positive way. Being able to see a parent as human and still love him/her like this is pretty cool. Thanks for sharing this.

Beautiful. You said it all. Rated.

This is what it's really like.

I hope you plan on leaving the addition/edit line. You'll have more to add, and each discovery will be a cross-through edit (so you can still see what you used to believe or remember).

Emotional ties to awful parents is sort of like a birth defect. My daughters had a terrible father. (The upside is they didn't notice that I was not a great mother!)

The innocence and enthusiasm in this poem makes it all the more bittersweet. Enjoyed this Jules. The reader in me wants to find out more ( and the nosy person too).

Greenheron, some days I wish it were simple- more clear cut at least- with lines and a map. Does that desire ever go away?

Bluestocking :) Thanks!

Joan, I almost think mothers have it worse. Thank you!

Iconesis, one touches a god by ingesting certain chemicals (or so I've been told)

Trig, heart back atcha

Stim, hey, thanks, that means alot.

Fusun, I was worried the love wasn't coming through, and I do love him. Love to you too!

Matt, it was my first word ;) (that must have made my mother so happy)

((Elizabeth))

Thank you JT...and yeah, it was a living hell for her to try to get it right and somehow always fail no matter how much effort she put into it. I love him very much, but I'll never forgive him for that aspect. And my mom since remarried (when I was 5) and my dad that raised me is a very loyal mate and spoils her, so she did well in the end.

Dianaani *brushes off hands* my work here is done. Thank you!!

Lezlie- oh yeah, exactly. Thank you.

Grif, Thank you.

Thanks Erica!

Thanks CG!

Bellweather- what an interesting idea. I will definately leave it.

Myriad- hahahah, oh yeah, my mother will always be my baby, to be preserved and protected. Probably not how my mother wants to be seen. But loved, loved, loved, as much as I got in my little shriveled heeart.

Rita :D Thanks woman!

Our parents are good and bad and human as are we all. Love is a fine state. Well written.
Rated.

Scylla- as are we all. yup
Thanks :D

It is difficult to comment on a poem like this. The only criticism I can think of is that your final line "but I have never stopped loving you" is very general. Perhaps you could come up with something more specific to never have stopped doing. Other than that, it sounds great.

Thanks Elegant! At work now, so will let that set at the back of my mind for the rest of my shift and see what I come up with when I get home. Any chance you d be willing to edit any of my other poems? I'm great at filling out ratemyprofessor reviews

aaaighhgh
evidently for me thinking and writing do NOT go together
everything I come up with is either a. not true, or b. uses voice which I used earlier, or c. is just as vague
I will noodle with it more, but it will probably take a few nights sleep.

eh.... (as you can probably let by my flailing Elegant, I'm usually a puke and poster. I need to learn to edit, but I never have.)

you were a god to me
snuggled in my bed with the pesos you sent
from your year long adventure down south
covers over my head to capture their scent better
metal, gasoline, and sweet salty ocean

i could be on the boat with you, then
my feet small and bare planted on the plastic spiky deck
hands clenched to brass, stretching

it didn't matter to me at that age
that you were a narcissist who almost broke my mother
the only thing that mattered was that you held me
and told me that you loved me more than all the fish in Jack's pond

now you are on the phone with me
voice echoey from the connection
the thumping of your tremor coming in clear
I miss you Dad
part of me never fails to grit my teeth at your version of reality
but I have never stopped wanting your love and attention

endless love is the way to go and I thin you have achieved that. Bravo HNY!

So much said in so few words Julie.
sorry to come so late honey.
This is deep....much so...

Thanks Algis :)

(((Mission)))

I'd be delighted to give it a try. Poetry is tricky though, as you well know.

well, Julie,
my own reasons,
leaving me shattered
in some pieces, on reading,
~
not bitter, beauty.

"you were a god to me"....says it all. I loved this and I can relate.

Powerful Julie, rated, and thank you so much. You are not useless trailer trash, BTW (looking at a comment about your mixed feelings here) You are a talented writer.

Stuff like this hurts. I am sorry for your dad.

Sigh. This is so sad.