Father's Day 2014 - You Taught Me

 I appreciate Odie's nice Father's Day post yesterday. She's a good kid.

We will return to our recently regular View Out The Front Window posts later in the week or next Sunday but today another Father's Day post. I have posted this in years past on Father's Day and I always get good response. Here it is again in honor of my Dad, Eugene Boggs.

It was published in 2001 in my little book, "When I Fall, Can I Get Up" but has been out of print for several years. I hope you enjoy it. You have my permission to print or post this as long as it is used in its entirety, not for profit and proper credit is given.

God bless you, 

Davy

I love you, Dad.

You Taught Me

Dad, you bought me a bike when I was three and taught me how to ride.

You pushed a while and then let go, I thought you were beside.

You said I picked it up real quick and said I went fast too.

Dad, my only dream when I was young was to go half as fast as you.

You taught me how to bat and how to throw a ball.

While others came to play the game, You said “son, give it your all”.

I loved it Dad when the crowd would scream, “hit it out of here”.

But, Dad, I hit that ball with all my might just to hear you cheer.

You taught me how to swim and dive.  We had so much fun.

You’d bury me up to my neck in the sand and bake me in the sun.

You’d throw us in and jump in too, we’d scream and splash and shout.

When the sun went down and we had to go home, you had to nearly pull us out.

Playing football in the fall, I’d run and push and fight.

I’d work all week and kill myself to play on Friday night.

Every game I’d push the limit trying to do my best.

You were standing at the thirty-yard line, I wanted to pass your test.

You taught me how to work, Dad, although I didn’t like it then.

You taught me the value of a hard days work, when to save and when to spend.

You taught me to respect other people and how to put others first.

To say sir and mam, please and thank-you, to see people at their best and not their worst.

There’s one thing you’ve taught me often, Dad, that I’ve been slow to learn.

“Take care of the name I’ve given you son, It’s something I’ve had to earn.”

There’s been several times, through the years, when my head’s hung in shame.

When I’ve drug the name you’ve given me through the mud. I know it’s caused you pain.

But you’ve been faithful to me, through the good times and the bad.

When you should have left me in defeat, You’ve been there for me Dad.

You were there to pick up the pieces, though I lost when I should have won.

The greatest thing you’ve taught me Dad is how deeply you love your son.

The bats and balls and other things have faded in the past.

I’m trying to trade these temporal things for something that will last.

I’m sure I’ve got a lot to learn.  I’ve only just begun.

But the greatest thing you’ve taught me, Papa, is how deeply The Father Loves His sons.

Davy Boggs