But don’t miss poet Prentice Powell’s message about time, either–specifically, how much he does not get with his son. Choking back tears, he says:

Try dropping your son off at the airport with three teeth in his mouth, go forward and watch him come back with five and see if you don’t beat yourself up for not being around during that time so don’t tell me I’m a good father when you don’t know anything about me.

"Good Father," is the name of the poem. Can you relate?