pashat

fly-by-nite lighthouse

pa's hat

I first wore the hat at the age of two
in a picture my mother took.
It swallowed my head in its immense size
an adult's hat on a small child's head.

My grandfather wore the hat
around the 1950's-
when it was stylish.
It fit him funny-
we always laugh
about the way it sat
on top of his head.

When off it came, a part of him
was left inside and stayed for years
as it sat alone in the top of his closet.
When I grew bigger, I lifted the hat
from it's lonely perch.
Now it fit me-
the brown hat hugging
my head snugly
but not too tight.

And all of a sudden, I left the place
where the hat and my grandfather
were for years.

But when I wear the hat
that part he left infuses me.
His love and laughter spring to life
and make me into a man such as he.

And neither hats nor
grandfathers are forever...
But I'll wear the hat,
and I'll keep what was left.
When he's gone there will be a man
who laughs like him,
and walks like him,
and cares like him.
Still wearing his Pa's hat.

BACK to COMPENDIUM

E-MAIL THE WOULD-BE POET

Without my grandfather, I would have grown up not knowing how a father is supposed to treat his family. From him I learned love, the value of hard work and how a man should carry himself responsibly. I don’t claim to live up to his example at all times, but what a paragon to have had! That is why my last name changed to Tankersley when I turned 18.

My actual father left when I was about two. He visited maybe twice a year and always sent my birthday card late. He serves as a counterpoint to Pa's example. His lesson is how NOT to be a father.

The more I see my own children grow, the less I understand how he could have walked away- guess he really just didn’t want to have any burdens. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him, although I strive to forgive.