Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

Happy Father’s Day

Through a little girl’s eyes, my father’s hands were so big. They folded over mine, swallowing them up as they taught me to tie my shoes. They patiently screwed together bicycles and swing sets, they wiped off chocolate mustaches. They wrapped around the handle of a hammer, hanging the same pictures over and over, each time we moved into new Army quarters somewhere.

At night, they would sometimes pleasantly smell like Brasso or shoe polish as they worked to make their owner’s uniform glisten. Other times, they would have a gentle scent of rain and earth, from digging holes for my mother’s daffodils, roses, boxwoods, and decorative lamp posts.

They showed me how to play a guitar. After much pleading and cajoling, they would unfold a screen and set up a slide projector that told the family stories that they had photographed and catalogued. They held puppies, turtles, and a rabbit named Lucky. They buried themselves in papier mache and goop to help make my fifth grade science fair model of Antarctica, complete with tiny flags and pins pointing out all the research sites.

They swung the steering wheel of a green Chevy sedan, a blue Rambler station wagon with space age push button controls and plastic seat covers that left waffle patterns on our sticky summer legs; later there were more — the doomed Renault, the jaunty yellow Beetle. Those hands steered us up and down countless thousands of highway miles, criss-crossing the world to beaches, new towns, Army bases, grandparents, mountain lakes, and always, always home.

Those hands made home happen.

Those hands made the desk where I sit now, where I dream my dreams. Those hands have held mine tight at funerals and weddings.

When I think of you, I think of so many things, but I most clearly see your strong hands, and I am thankful with all my heart for the many things they have given me.

Happy Father’s Day.

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  • June 15, 2008, 8:10 am POEATREEMAN


    LOVE is Never out nor in
    It is there WITHIN
    It does not PASS AWAY
    Yet it Lies DORMANT
    Until you GIVE
    A FLICKER is only a DWINDLE
    When it Rests Upon the LIGHT
    When the MORNING Comes
    LOVE Rises with the LIGHT
    Wishing LOVE will see Today
    And with your HEART
    Bring HOPE to your Loss
    WISHING you will not Turn Away
    Yet GOD;
    Is There to HEAL it all.



    A Poeatreeman
    The Darkest Hour
    Can be our Greatest Hope
    When a Prayer is Answered
    And God has Spoken
    I Hear you Child
    I am your Father
    Who will not Pass Away
    For when you Need me
    I will not be Far Away

    Edgar Allan Prieto

    Copyright ©2006 Edgar Allan Prieto

  • June 15, 2008, 10:37 am Beth Owl's Daughter

    Hmm..not sure who this person is or his motives. I also received several lengthy emails from him yesterday along these same lines. For now, I will give him the benefit of the doubt and honor his good intentions..

    – Beth

  • June 15, 2008, 4:23 pm Wren

    Beth, that was so-o-o lovely. Thanks for sharing it. What would I write to my father? – who died long ago, but so what? Maybe I’ll try, with your inspiration.