Sitting by the door wearing just a t-shirt and tears
Waiting for the dark truth that I already knew
Looking upon the foggy street, the crickets play their nightly song
Patiently waiting for the morning sun to rise
Remembering happy times unfortunately makes the pain worse
His keys will no longer clink when he opens the door
Those beat up brown slippers in front of the couch
Will never again feel the warmth of his feet
Canoe cologne still lingers in the hallway
Merit cigarettes on the workbench untouched
Unpressed shirts still lay on the ironing board
Fearing that if anything changes, it’s actually true
Nothing has changed, but everything had changed
The house is full of people, but I feel so alone
There will be no more piggy back rides or braided hair
No more family dinners or famous cheese toasties
No one to walk me down the aisle on that special day
No more Daddy’s little girl
I wrote that poem in 2007 for a Creative Writing class at USF, I just recently stumbled across it and thought today would be a good day to share it.
My father would be 68 years old today. Next February he will have been gone for 20 years. I still think of him every single day and know that he’s somewhere looking after me.
I’m not looking for sympathy, I have a great family, wonderful friends and I have lead a blessed life, I just miss him. I wish I could talk to him, I wish I could hug him and I wish he could see how I turned out.
“Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something and has lost something. ” – H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
Happy birthday Daddy.
Thanks for reading.