The Tight Rope of Life

Today marks the 4th anniversary of my father’s passing. And with Father’s day around the corner, I was reminded of this poem that came to me in the middle of the night, back in August of 1997. I was in a place of deep motherly instinct — my third baby boy sleeping peacefully on my chest — feeling so profoundly blessed, knowing our family was now complete.

In that quiet moment, a wave of emotion washed over me: gratitude for my children, for the gift of being a mother, for the love of my parents, and for a father who taught me so much simply through his presence.

I gently put Bradley down, and the feelings poured out into words. I’m forever grateful to have felt them, written them down, and most of all — to have shared them with my father.

The Tight Rope of Life

When I was a young girl

Just looking for blame

You reasoned with me

You showed me no shame

I’ll never forget

The pain in your eyes

One quiet afternoon

With grey or blue skies

You said “watching your kids grow

Is humbling that’s true

And when you have to let go

There’s not much you can do

The tight rope called life

Is the one we all walk

As your father I’ll be here

When you need to talk

But for now I am helpless

And I pray that you’ll call

If you ever lose balance

If you feel you may fall”

As I look at my baby

It makes sense to me now

Your wisdom and kindness

Is what taught me how

Now let me take your seat

You can finally rest

It’s my turn to watch

And I will do my best

To teach virtue and goodness

To be patient and true

To this child that needs me

To be just like you

I love you Pops

Lyne

Aug, 1997