Worn, tattered, signs of hours spent together.

Hours which increased greatly from Dad’s move

Into the Nursing Home, three year ago now.

Sitting cozy, snuggled at the window, enjoying

Comfort, companionship shared for 20 years.

At ninety Dad savors his friend - A possession

Of the fall chapter in his life’s book.

Living out the winter chapter, Dad often sits

Lost in the twilight of time - of where he is

And why? Hours too long, purpose non-existent

Memories float through the recess of his mind

In no specific pattern of people, time or

Events. His grandparents recalled as if

Yesterday, born to a family of six, a home

Stead with an absence of luxury and an

Abundance of work. Honest, hard worker,

Raised his family of five, the hard winds of

Time blowing the harsh storms of life. Dads

Recliner, faithful friend, holding him until

The Lord calls him home - the last page wrote.

Wrote with love and respect for my Dad,

Clarence Orville Spears, on Feb. 16^{th 2002}

Helen Margaret Burley