My daddy was a carpenter. His hands had built so much
He brought to life each piece of wood with just a simple touch.

I often admired his fingers, so callused, blistered, and scarred
From years of building houses and working in the yard.

His left hand had half an index finger, he lost a fight once with a saw.
I believe it was that battle wound he took pride in most of all.

His gift was quiet amazing. Really nothing he couldn't build.
From decks to spiral staircases, he hammered, nailed, and drilled.

For my sister he built a clubhouse with a roof that had shingles and all.
And then he built a baby crib for her to lay her baby doll.

As a girl I had a tree house that made me the envy of our hood.
Complete with windows and shutters that he hand carved from wood.

His hands had built so many things from large to very small.
But the wooden cross hanging in my kitchen is now my favorite of them all.

But in his final moments as he lay fighting for each breath he took.
I held his hands inside of mine and watched them as they shook.

These hands that were once so strong, were now fragile like a child.
And although my eyes were filled with tears, I stared down at them and smiled.

And thought..... 
Yes, my daddy was a carpenter, but then so was Jesus, the son 
And now all the things they can build together now that daddy's work on earth is done. -Autumn 

In loving memory of my dad! CANCER- Find a cure!