The day arrived, then slipped away;
A hundred years, since he was born,
But I forgot to note his day,
Or celebrate the life he'd worn.
I'd like to think he'd understand;
Work always takes priority,
My life is hectic, meetings planned,
And scarce a moment when I'm free.
He told me, "Work, rewards will come.
When you have won, your battles fought,
Appreciate what you've become,
You'll revel in the things you've wrought."
He taught me not to deviate
From goals. The prize would ease all pain.
Success itself, would palliate
The efforts made, and I would gain.
I follow his advice today;
It always stands me in good stead;
Before I plunge into the fray,
I pause, remember what he said.
Pictures that I remember best,
Are etched into my memory;
When he cooked trout he caught with zest,
Or he flew model planes with me.
I smile about his love of cars;
When we went to the rodeo;
The tales he loved of distant Mars,
And when we saw a Broadway show.
With these memories, I still can
Be startled that this vibrant man,
Was born a century ago;
The only father that I know.