by Kathleen Sihock

Created on: January 08, 2010

My Dad was born in the great depression.

He spent all his childhood with no possessions.

He worked to help his Mom and Dad.

Quit school at 12 and did all he could

To feed himself and eight brothers and sisters.

He would sell golf balls to make a dime

To get bread for his family  and maybe some meat

If he had a good day, then his family could eat.

When he grew up, he became a truck driver

He took care of his family without any complaints

And provided for us all of his life,

Just my Sister and I, and our Mom, his wife.

He drove that truck for 40 long years,

Worked very hard lots of blood, sweat, and tears.

When he came home from work, he always had a smile

And always had time to play for awhile.

He always helped out with others, and had time for all.

He was an amazing man, and always stood tall.

As he grew older his memory went bad

He would just sit there looking so sad.

Alzheimer's set in, that awful disease.

All the things we did were just a memory

Then the day came when we got that awful call

We rushed to the hospital, just before the fall

I told him "I Love You", and he whispered it back

Then closed his eyes, and I lost my Dad.

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