My dad, Jerry Bard, died last Monday March 2. His memorial service was held Friday in the church I pastor, First United Methodist Church, Duluth. I officiated at the service. My dad was not a church-going person so there was not another congregation in the picture. While I wrestled with the decision, I decided I wanted to officiate as a last gift to my father. Our relationship was not always an easy one, but I wanted to offer that last gift.

I wrote the following poem on December 16, 2008, the day I first visited my father in the hospital. He would never be out of a health care facility from that day until March 2. This poem, too, is a gift for my father, to whom it is dedicated.

Room 9108
for Gerald E. Bard, October 13, 1935-March 2, 2009

Behind the curtain
in the darkened
hospital room
not the blustering
wizard whose
angry presence
could evoke
fear, even
terror
but a
small shriveled
man wondering
if he would
bounce back
this time or…
now fed by a
bottle and a
tube not a
bottle and a
shot glass.
Fear now
replaced by
compassion
which is
a form of
love.

With Faith and With Feathers,

David