This year Father’s Day coincides with Bloomsday which, according to The Writer’s Almanac:
... James Joyce fans all over the world are celebrating. It commemorates the day on which the events of his novel Ulysses take place. Joyce chose June 16th, 1904, for the setting because it was the day of his first date with Nora Barnacle, his future wife. Even after the novel's success, Joyce himself did not call June 16th "Bloomsday." Nor did he really celebrate the day, though publisher Sylvia Beach organized a celebratory Parisian luncheon on June 16th, 1929 — years before the book was legal in the English-speaking world.
Much as I identify with my Irish heritage, today honoring my father, and all fathers, takes precedence. I do my best and hope my shoulders are broad and strong enough to do for my children and grandchild what my father did for me: teach me to care about and for others, and to think for myself. Today’s poem says it even better. If we’re not here to take care of each other and, especially, our children, why are we here?
Shoulders
A man crosses the street in rain,
stepping gently, looking two times north and south,
because his son is asleep on his shoulder.No car must splash him.
No car drive too near to his shadow.This man carries the world’s most sensitive cargo
but he’s not marked.
Nowhere does his jacket say FRAGILE,
HANDLE WITH CARE.His ear fills up with breathing.
He hears the hum of a boy’s dream
deep inside him.We’re not going to be able
to live in this world
if we’re not willing to do what he’s doing
with one another.The road will only be wide.
The rain will never stop falling.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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