My father’s life wasn’t easy
He had worked as a small, young boy
Bringing home milk and vegetables
No time for children’s toys.
He was only seven years old
When he started working at the church
Exchanging his toil for pennies then
He never shied away from work.
One of many children
Did his best to help provide
Never complaining about his life
Not one to whine or cry.
As a young man he joined the Navy
With goals yet to achieve
Learned as much as he could
Never doubting his beliefs.
The war took him far away from home
It was a sad day when he was captured
The Japanese had attacked Corregidor
His leg now badly fractured.
They kept him in a prison camp
Fed rice, seaweed and tea.
No sugar, cream, or fancy cups
No thoughts of being freed.
He saw his share of horrors
Worked hard day after day
Three years held in captivity
His life slipping slowly away.
When the war was finally over
Those captured were set free
Thankfully my dad…. still alive
Had been sent back home to me.
My dad, my inspiration
Never bitter, never sad
Always optimistic
Always grateful, always glad.
He exchanged cards and letters
With a guard he’d met long ago
The man who held him captive
He had actually gotten to know.
They wrote to one another
Sent letters, gifts and cards
My father never held a grudge
Though he was badly scarred.
A bonze star and a purple heart
Among the many of his medals
He really was one of a kind, you see
My dad was someone special.
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MY DAD: JOSEPH PATRICK O’GRADY
Re-blog from June 2018.
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