Retirement Poem by B. V. Dahlen

The last of the boxes are emptied.
The last of your things are unpacked.
The time for goodbyes is upon us.
Now I call upon all of my tact.

You're a man.
I can see what's before me.
You're a man,
And I've helped make it so.
You're a man,
And it's time now for leaving,
But Lord, how it hurts to let go.

A job that I've held for two decades
Is finally completed and done.
A job that I've cherished,
The heartaches,
The traumas, adventures and fun.

I've propped, I've hugged
And I've pampered.
I've punished and lowered the boom.
Held hands at my sides
When I wanted to reach.
Stepped aside
When you needed more room.

It's time for us now to be going
And you say
You'll do fine here alone.
One last hug
And I rush from your dorm room,
Leaving you here to stand on your own.

If anyone tells you it's easy
Put them down
As the worst sort of liar,
For they don't give you
Watches and banquets
When it's time for a Mom to retire.