My Dad

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 each and every 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 l, 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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Re-blogged from June 2018.
_______________________________

FOR MY DAD….. JOSEPH PATRICK O’GRADY
Youtube: WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING by Karl Harod.

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Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories and songs.

21 thoughts on “My Dad”

  1. Such a heartfelt poem about an amazing man.
    It is impossible for us to imagine what life was like for our parents way back then, but for your father to come through all that adversity and still be charming is inspirational.

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  5. Patty.. This is one of the best written works I have ever read in life and ever will. All that biographical emotion comes jumping off the screen right to the heart. Privileged are those that get to read this.. What an amazing man! What a wonderful, amazing, amazing man!

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    1. Thank you so much, Isha! Your words about my poem touched my heart! He was a very special person! Everyone that knew him liked him. He was without prejudice or guile. He would give you anything that he had and would go without, to make you happy. I always said that if he were a rich man, I would have been driving a Mercedes and living in a grand castle! I called him, THE GIVING TREE (based on Shel Silverstein’s book of the same name). When my boys were little, we would sing this song to him in the car….when we were driving somewhere.
      It’s an old country song by Bobby Bare.
      Might sound kind of corny, but….he was just like that tree! 💙

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      1. Patty, his story deserves to be told.. It’s so beautiful. I imagined everything you wrote. My Papa is also one who gives and goes without as you so beautifully put it. Thank you so much for sharing something this heartwarming. It’s my honour. With such a wonderful writer for a daughter, I’m sure your father’s memory will live on! Have a great day!

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