I feel his hand on my shoulder
Reassuringly
When I am unsure of myself
Or hesitant
I see him watch me sagely
When I seek enlightenment
I see him smile with pride
When I succeed
Or with head inclined to comfort
When I fail
He is with me late at night
Watching Bogey and Bacall
I see his reflection on the lake
When I am fishing
And I hear him cheering loudly
Whenever we beat Australia
His smile sustains me
His words engage me
His strength supports me
His compassion inspires me
I shared joy with him
When my children were born
And sorrow when
My mother passed away
He stood behind me
In church on my wedding day
And beside me
At the reception when we toasted
At quiet moments I detect
The fragrance of old spice
Or the acrid tell tale aroma
Of his pipe tobacco
He is with me now
As I write these words
Though he has been dead
For nearly thirty years
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