Today would have been my father's 91st birthday. He passed on in 1992. When he was 10 years old, the Stock Market crashed and he came of age during the Great Depression. When I was 11 years old Woodstock happened and I came of age during the Watergate fallout. Two very different worlds often collided under a single roof.
I wrote the poem below for my dad in November 1980. This is for you, Dad, as much today as it was then. Happy Birthday.
I called my dad tonight;
We started with the weather
And ended with 'I love you'.
I remember I stopped kissing him good-night
When I was fifteen.
I wish I were back home tonight,
....And fourteen again.