Fresh tendernesses burgeoned
with the dying of my dad
I love him all the more for it
He lived his life for other’s gain
His death, he gave away the same
and I love him all the more for it
This son was fiercely fashioned
by his father’s dappled life
the way he loved his children
the way he loved his wife
My dad was hardly perfect
but I hardly give a rip
I loved him all the more for it
Not scandalized by brokenness
not scandalized by pain
But Dad could not abide the curse
and hellishness of shame
He’d absorb another’s failures
and return them as a gift
I loved him all the more for it
My father was a trumpeter
those days have long since passed
He passed along his passion to me
eager as I was
We’d sit for hours and listen
to the Tijuana Brass
I loved him all the more for it
I tenderly remember
when beauty left me rent
I was too young to consider then
that love is never spent
He told me pain would linger
and would likely leave a dent
I loved him all the more for it
My dad was a believer
He believed that God was good
He was certain Jesus lived
to show how everybody could
and that all our earthly sorros
couldn’t be the final writ
I loved him all the more for it
My father was a fortress
for my two sisters and I
And more-so for our mom
who suffered so much of her life
He taught us how to live
and then he taught us how to die
We loved him all the more for it
Fresh tendernesses burgeoned
with the dying of my dad
and I love him all the more for it

Old tenderness awakens
with the memory of my dad
I love him all the more for it
He lived his life to the full
he died with strength and grace
and I love him all the more for it
This child was fiercely fashioned
by her father’s precious life
the way he loved his children
the way he loved his wife
My fiery red-head dad
was a force to reckon with
I loved him all the more for it
Not one to turn away from pain
nor turn aside the hurt
my dad would not ignore the lost
nor turn his back on hope
He’d always start his day by
checking in with us
I loved him all the more for it
My father played the flute sometimes
a long, long time ago
he passed along his flute to me
so I could have a turn
He’d sit in the dark and play along
to something he once knew
I loved him all the more for it
I vividly remember
what last words he chose to spoke
I was struck by his important words
which always hold me through
He told me that he loved me
and to always love the Lord
I loved him all the more for it
My dad was a believer
He believed that God was good
He was certain Jesus lived
to show how everybody could
and that our earthly sorrows
wouldn’t be the final end
I loved him all the more for it
My father was a fortress
for my three sisters and I
and even more for our mom
who knew him most her life
He taught us how to live
and then he taught us how to die
we loved him all the more for it
Old tenderness awakens
with the memory of my dad
and I love him all the more for it.