We do what we do because of what we know
A knowing in the mind & one of the heart
And of the two the heart is the more powerful
These are the memories I have:
I remember... of shortly after I am born,
Crawling around, climbing about, looking up,
From way down here... how big you are
You are picking me up and holding me high
I remember... the apartment, the kitchen, the floor,
The legs of the table, and the kitchen door,
One window that looks out beyond the parking lot,
And fields of green grass, to where you go;
What is this thing called "work"?
Are you driving that old brown Ford sedan?
I remember... you and the neighbor offering us cigars
After you found out that we had been smoking
Under the huge old tree trunk across the street,
How sick I get, how I swear I'll never smoke, again
I remember... wanting my allowance and you asking
If I wanted to watch an operation, scrub up, put on a gown
You operate for what seems like hours... trying to save
A hand caught by a homemade snow blower
How calm, deliberate you are; sick to my stomach I am
So afraid I will faint, I leave the operating room, again
The man loses only two fingers; how proud I am
Here's the doctors dressing room, the stool for Doc B
I remember... it's the summer of my freshman year
I come to you and say, "Dad, I've been invited to Iran
To visit the family of some friends that I made at school."
I remember... up in my bedroom, you are crying
I am holding you, my big big father, in my arms
It's the first time I have ever seen tears in your...
You... you are afraid I might not come back.
I am holding you
I remember... we are stopping, for a house call
(in days when doctors still make house calls)
You turn and say, "I have to charge prices like this."
The high insurance and things like that...
It was as though we were having a discussion
You were feeling guilty, charging so much
Yet, you let that old woman Frances-in-the-wheelchair
Pay with baking bread and rolls for us, for so many years
You are opening up to me for another moment,
As though, I am a part of your conscience

Mom says that you are a deep man
I guess your depth does not come out in words
Now, I know better the value of the depth
That arises in actionsÑSolid

Over the years, self-absorbed, I have been
Unable to see the special character in you
You may have been more ready than I know
More willing to open to me your private, special world
But, you nor I could take the initiative
Oh, from having seen from where you came,
I have my ideas why you could not
One was surely not rewarded for self-expression...
In that family, in those times, one had to be proper,
God-fearing, hard-working, without weakness
It's all about being vulnerable, I suspect
What a burden to carry... just to be a man.

Oh, Dad! I just... I wish I could go back
To that baby's body, with greater maturity,
Understanding how you loved me in spite of your silence
How you loved us... of course, all of us
If you only new how the few moments of openness
Between us stand out like beacons in experience!

Dad, we are parts of each others conscience;
And for us, you are the center; you are the hub;
You are the rock; you are the one who carries us;
You are the one who picks us up and holds us high
All with hardly saying a word
What a burden to carry, not being able to say a word
I <love> you, too.