My father is having surgery for a lymphoma tumor today, April 21.  He is one of my best friends. I am anxious about this sudden development in his health. Mortality somehow always surprises us, even though we "know" it’s always lurking nearby.

Here is a sonnet I wrote for him around Father’s Day last year.

To my father, Francis Hugh Thomas
July 27, 2004

He fashions the world’s mood with his gentle smile
And listens profoundly through careful, silver blue eyes.
Sheltered by his attention, you may be beguiled,
For light-hearted comfort accompanies this soul who’s wise.
I remember fondly certain moments of childish pleasure
When I played at his embassy’s behemoth office desk,
Learning to make paper airplanes, meticulous treasures;
Though often busy, he was in my eyes "the best".
He worked hard to give us everything we desired
And still provides, sharing his propitious bounty,
While gently advising with lessons painfully acquired
Through 76 years of life’s complex accounting.
My friends like to share him, so great his appeal.
I am proud to be of him, a gift so graciously real.