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Father and Son

I played Cowboys and Indians. I was, The Lone Ranger, and Tonto, both. I played Hide and Seek. I would hide in a very good spot that would never be sought. Most of the time I was running and laughing until tears would stream down the cheeks of my dirty little face...alone, I was his Son.

He was somewhere out there and he would never become aware, that the woman he loved had given him a child he would never know, He was my Father.

A few years down the road when I was older.

I never learned to throw the ball or catch it either. Oh and that thing under the hood of all Cars, called an engine, never learned how to work on it neither. Birds and Bees, I knew soon enough I couldn't catch either one. I hope I make him proud, I'm a Son

He was somewhere out there, unaware of the teenager he would never get to show love, He was a Father.

I am thirty-five years old and I know the ache of a missing Dad in a little boy's life, because as sure as I was once that Son, I have now become the Father. And my Father would never learn that his flesh and blood would one day have a Son, One who would never get to know and love Grandfather.

Learn more about this author, David Baine.
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