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Tag Archives: my dad
I Stood In The Rain
Posted in Family, Inspiration, Photography, Poetry, Tributes
Tagged #PhotoPoetry, 1inawesomewonder, 1inawesomewonder Photography, @1inawesomewondr, alone in the rain, Beal blog, close to you, dad, heavenly, John Beal, just a man, my dad, rain, remembering my dad, Steve Beal Sr., tribute
I’m here in the yard, at the house I grew up in. I mowed the lawn as I usually do. But I’m missing my Dad. He’d be sitting right here, outside in the warm air. We’d be talking about this, or that, or even silently enjoying that which God created. Sharing a mutual respect for the simple things that make life grand. Seven weeks ago today, God took him home. I’m home, and I miss him.
I mowed the lawn with MapMyWalk! Distance: 1.93mi, time: 01:07:17, pace: 34:52min/mi, speed: 1.72mi/h.
Tagged Beal blog, eternal life, John Beal, Londonderry, missing Dad, my dad, my home, Steve Beal Sr., where I grew up
A Month and the Sox
April 14, 2016 – My Dad was taken home by his Lord and Saviour. There are bunches of my words that you can read if you so wish, regarding my Dad’s death found in the following links. Dad. The Man is Gone. A Dad and This Boy. I miss him.
May 14, 2016 – We took the twins and their older brothers to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play. It is the 6-year-old twins’ first trip to the old ballpark in Boston.
Posted in Baseball, Family, Photography, Sports, Twin Adventures
Tagged 1inawesomewonder, 1inawesomewonder Photography, 7th inning stretch, @1inawesomewondr, Beal blog, blog, Boston Red Sox, Christian Vazquez, Clay Buccholz, David Ortiz, Dustin Pedroia, father and son, Fenway, Fenway Park, Foxx, Hanley Ramirez, Houston Astros, Jake Marisnick, kid again, kids game, Luke Gregerson, Michael Feliz, Mookie Betts, my dad, Red Sox, Red Sox win, Ruth, Ryan Hanigan, Steve Beal Sr., Take me out to the ballgame, the Fens, The Sox, walk off win, Williams, Xander Bogaerts
A Dad and This Boy
I thought that I was doing pretty well, then came along, this day
Two weeks ago today, Dad you were called home, out of the fray
Dad, I sat down at my laptop to start writing these thoughts I kept
An alert blinked, so I clicked, a picture of us opened up, I wept
I have said, I was blessed to do what God has allowed me time to do
I wasn’t done Dad, why did you have to leave now, I trust God knew
I always acted in love, knowing that one distant day you’d be gone
Leaving a hole here in my world, rhythm broken, no tasks to be done
You would just get better, together we would move on, more time to share
Then one April morning I rushed, to be with you, but you weren’t there
When do we get to share a coffee and relive the moments we love?
Now I sit here by myself, mulling over this and that, I look above
What about the road trips we talked of Dad, where would we go?
I drive for hours, all over the place, and creation, let me know
Dad, who is going to tell me stop, or to turn, on our way to Canada?
Dad, I’d stop every time you needed, regardless of my own stamina
Dad, can we gather round the table one more time and just let loose?
Oh, we’d laugh til tears, you, my siblings, Mom, this boy you called moose
I look at the hoop and wonder if I’ll ever see that arch ever again
Dad, you were one the best lefty shooters there has ever been
You weren’t well, but I never thought this day would come so soon
Dimly, I thought that maybe when the day came, I’d be somehow immune
Dad, I am not immune, I can barely get through a day, maybe even two
I can’t imagine the despair of those who don’t know the Truth you knew
I wouldn’t make it were it not for the message, the way to heaven’s door
As a child, I’d lay in bed and pray that prayer every night just to be sure
It was you Dad, you shared the gospel and led me to the foot of the cross
It was you Dad, you put it out there, heaven bound, no longer lost
And, Dad, one day it will be our great day of celebration and joy
When, we all get together in heaven, it’ll always be a dad and this boy
How we will laugh, and in perfect health, we will walk the streets of gold
Dad, we will all see you again, in the land where we will never grow old
Posted in Family, Inspiration, Poetry, Religious, Tributes
Tagged 1inawesomewonder, @1inawesomewondr, A Dad and This Boy, believe, blog, dad, eternal life, Father, give up sin, gospel, heaven, John Beal, Londonderry, my dad, New Hampshire, NH, one in awesome wonder, salvation, seek Christ, son, Steve Beal Sr., the foot of the cross, trust God
The Standard is Falling, but He Answered His Calling
I know I’m not the first, nor the last, to have a parent in a nursing home. Still, it’s a first for me. Dad is in a nursing home. Since the surgical procedure to insert a shunt back in December, Dad has been home for just a fraction of time.
There are a litany of health reasons why he is where he is. I share this because it has been tearing me up. Seeing him as he is has been tough. I want to reach out and hold him up, to give him all of my strength.
Tears stream down my face night after night. Why? Because it’s my Dad. It’s him sitting there. It’s the guy I couldn’t stand to be away from as a boy. Maybe I could walk, but still he’d carry me, because I was his boy, he could, and there was the love that parents know. He was the face I waited to see at the end of the day. The one who spoke and I listened like all other voices were a mere suggestion of sound. The punchline to the jokes that we still tell. The laughter to the soundtrack of life that we all live. Now, words are scarce.
It is him, and he sits there. I sit close. He knows I am there. I know it even if it’s not always so apparent. We visit if you call it that. I come and I go. He stays there. He weeps with dignity, wanting just to be home. He cries when I leave. I cry after I leave, and into the darkness of night. And in an emotional outburst I am currently trying unsuccessfully to self-contain, I write.
I count the time between motion and the command given
Age lets me question this, disability? or simply not driven?
I don’t think it hurts, but I see pain in those baby blues
Fumbling for the things that we don’t even remember to use
Why is it, we learn so late to appreciate these small things?
Maybe we need to remember the joy that the details bring
Health has failed a little more each time it has come calling
Strides get lost because, the standard, it’s always falling
I know where it ends, but where on the path are we?
Better to pray, to trust, I have not the mind to foresee
Time is, time goes, we sit quietly, trapped between our ears
What do you say when the only weight is in yesteryears?
Maybe tomorrow, it’ll be better that day, just because
Even so, I hide a sigh, it’s never better, better than it was
My mind can’t help looking past those eyes into the mirror
What’s to come gets closer but the view isn’t any clearer
Looking for the simplest signs, you need not walk a mile
Just turn up the corners, I know where to find that smile
God knew, delivering precision from an imperfect brain
Many a sermon, and the vision to preach words ordained
The words are locked away now, but their message lives
Cohesion is gone, but we know them by the clues he gives
It’s all there, gravity just fails to hold all of it in place
At times I see the freedom by what’s missing in his face
No matter the pain; in him, there is breath, there is life
I am just the boy, taking cues from my mom, his wife
My eyes close and there they are, not so far away
My lips don’t move but with all my might, I pray
Posted in Family, Inspiration, Poetry
Tagged 1inawesomewonder, @1inawesomewondr, blog, dad, Father, I cry, I write, like father like son, love, my dad, parental love, poem, pray for dad, raw, Steve Beal Sr., words help, writing therapy
There Is Love In Those Eyes
In short, my Dad is in a nursing home. There’s a litany of health reasons why he is where he is. I share this because it has been tearing me up. Tears stream down my face night after night. Why? Because it’s my Dad. It’s him sitting there. It’s the guy I couldn’t stand to be away from as a boy. Maybe I could walk, but still he’d carry me, because I was his boy, and there was love that parents know. He was the face I waited to see at the end of the day. The one who spoke and I listened like all other voices were a mere suggestion of sound. The punchline to the jokes that we still tell. The laughter to the soundtrack of life that we all live. It is him, and he sits there. He knows I am there. I know it even if it’s not always so apparent. We visit if you call it that. I come and I go. He stays there. He cries when I leave. I cry after I leave. And in an emotional outburst I am currently trying unsuccessfully to self-contain, I write.
There’s a hole in the floor, where he sits to stare
Something tells me though, there’s nothing there
His eyes come up to see the source of sound
They tell me he soars from this chair he’s bound
Windows show me their words but lips are still
The empty space in this room silence still does fill
All is calm but the hands holding on to His last words
Pages shake, memory frayed, the message not blurred
Heads are bowed but the prayers are for those here
Wide eyes tell stories long since past my own fears
Lips crack but there’s still no sound, I lean in though
A tear forms, and the quiet pause is all I need to know
Somewhere in the depths of blue, there’s a boy free
I would bring him back if it were only up to me
Connections are hard to make in this space, but we try
There’s sadness, and hurt, but there’s love in those eyes
Senses thrive when the focus narrows to just the one
Time expires today but I know our time’s never really done
I stare but I get lost in the visions where they used to be
I linger in hopes that progress has come down to me
Gentle like the sun’s arc rising to start each new day
A grin lights those eyes and for now, it’s all okay
I get up to leave, he stays, and he wonders why oh why
Away, but never gone, I sit too, I ponder, and I cry
Posted in Family, Inspiration, Poetry
Tagged 1inawesomewonder, @1inawesomewondr, blog, dad, Father, I cry, I write, like father like son, love, my dad, parental love, Steve Beal Sr.