Remembering My Father
Francesco Augustino DeRoss
My Father Frank is rich in tradition. He always came home on time, never drank, never smoked, a solid family man, a steady guiding hand
My Father Frank is rich in things that you can not buy and if you could buy them it would not be wise to do so
My Father Frank laughed a lot, because that brilliant smile would have been an awesome thing to waste
My Father Frank engaged his faith with his outstanding intellect and that is where truth lives
My Father Frank can listen to the words you say even when you don’t say them
My Father Frank held still in those moments that most rush to ignore. He knows that true beauty lives there, in between the notes
My Father Frank is brave and stood to fight and never broke and never winced
My Father Frank took in the earth and sought it out and honored it’s worth
My Father Frank recognized talent and ignited confidence in other’s abilities without the need for personal glory
My Father Frank knew passions that ran deep and hot under ice cold waters
My Father Frank was loyalty, was melody, was kind
My Father Frank was industrious with wrench n’ hammer, muscle and mind
My Father Frank danced with common sense, and upon God’s grace he dined
Mt Father Frank. My Father Frank. My Father Frank.
La Famiglia DeRoss
