This is not the post I planned to write today, but I felt compelled to post this. My father has been on my mind a lot this week. It has been over 11 years since he passed away and sometimes I feel ashamed I don't sit and think of him more often. Not in a sad way, but just remembering stuff, and more stuff.
Anyway, earlier this week, my mum and I were talking and planning a cinema trip. This led her to a story about my dad. They used to go to the Leicester Square Odeon a lot, in the days when I think films were just looped so you could go and watch the last 30 minutes of something and then stay for the next showing and watch your chosen film from the beginning. Well, this is how I understand it from my mum.
The funny thing was, she was really complaining about how my father loved to do this, even though it used to ruin the film for her. This made me laugh out loud. Because I am exactly the same. It drives most people I know crazy. Knowing the ending of a film, book, any plot spoiler does not ruin my enjoyment at all. And I've always known this was a little weird, but I thought it was just me. In all the time I was growing up, I didn't know about this similarity. Now I do, it just makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. Since that conversation with my mother, my brain has been flooded with thoughts of my father. I guess once you start thinking about someone love, it is hard to stop.
So with my father at the forefront of my mind this morning I happened on a website, which had a poetry section and this title jumped out at me. Slightly unrelated perhaps, but all roads at the moment lead back to my father in my head. When I young I didn't understand that my dad's softness and sensitivity were among his greatest strengths. I have to share this poem with you, which to me, screams my father's name. I hope it resonates with you, about someone. I have googled Jacqueline Marie Griffiths and can't seem to find info on her. If you know about her, please let me know, so I can thank her for this beautiful poem.
The Strength Of A Man by Jacqueline Marie Griffiths
The strength of a man isn't seen in the width of his shoulders.
It's in the width of his arms that encircle you.
The strength of a man isn't in the deep tone of his voice.
It's in the gentle words he whispers.
The strength of a man isn't how many buddies he has.
It's how good of buddies he is with his children.
The strength of a man isn't in how respected he is at work.
It's in how respected he is at home.
The strength of a man isn't in how hard he hits.
It's in how tender he touches.
The strength in a man isn't in the hair on his chest.
It's in his Heart...that lies within his chest.
The strength of a man isn't how many women he's loved.
It's in can he be true to one woman.
The strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift.
It's in the burdens he can carry.
© July 15, 1999 Jacqueline Marie Griffiths (written for Hunt D. Rochon)