This week I don’t have a thousand words to share with you. Only a poem.

Although I’m not a poetic kind of man this one struck me. And the words rambled around in my head all week. I am a father and my fellow brother in arms, also a father had a tough couple of weeks. His daughter got married. Although the events surrounding the marriage were not perfect, he took it like a champion. The poem’s words are exactly the kind of father he is.

Only a Dad

BY EDGAR ALBERT GUEST

Only a dad, with a tired face,

Coming home from the daily race,

Bringing little of gold or fame,

To show how well he has played the game,

But glad in his heart that his own rejoice

To see him come, and to hear his voice.

Only a dad, with a brood of four,

One of ten million men or more.

Plodding along in the daily strife,

Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,

With never a whimper of pain or hate,

For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,

Merely one of the surging crowd

Toiling, striving from day to day,

Facing whatever may come his way,

Silent, whenever the harsh condemn,

And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad, but he gives his all

To smooth the way for his children small,

Doing, with courage stern and grim,

The deeds that his father did for him.

This is the line that for him I pen,

Only a dad, but the best of men.

There is so much wisdom in Edgar’s poem. Gentleman, remember what you are fighting for. Remember you are raising future men, and teaching your daughters what men should be, act accordingly.

THE STRONG