Father's Day 2005

Dad, I miss you so much. It's been thirty years and a month now, since that terrible day. It was three weeks before my twelfth birthday. I remember you had already been asking me what I wanted for my birthday, and I told you, jokingly, a horse. (You said I could have anything I wanted.) How was I to know, that you had been talking to Julie Davis' father, asking him if you got me a horse, could we keep it on their property. I didn't know you took what I said seriously, but back then, there was a lot I didn't know.
I didn't know what it was like to get up and go to work every day, so you could provide your wife and family with what they needed to survive. I didn't know what it was like to sit in traffic for an hour a day, just so you could make it to work and back. I didn't know what it was like to be tired, because you have diabetes, and heart disease, and at the time there are not many medicines available to treat it.
I didn't know what it was like to lose a father, like you had lost yours. I didn't know what it was like to work hard all your life, and to raise six kids. I still don't know, but I can imagine that it must have been hard sometimes. To work full-time, like you did, and still find the time to be involved in our lives, must have required a lot of dedication on your part. You were there for all the important events, baseball and softball games, PTA meetings, Braves games, and many other things. Sometimes, you were just there, if we needed someone to talk to.
That is what I miss the most, Daddy. You were always there to reassure me that everything was going to be okay, no matter what happened. There were times when I felt like it was the end of the world, but your loving arms would hold me, until my world was right again. After you died, there was no one who could even come close to letting me know that feeling again. I felt lost and in need of consoling, but there was no one I could talk to, like I talked had talked with you.
Sometimes other people would try, but they lacked what you seemed to have naturally, kindness and understanding, and just the right amount of listening to me, so that you knew where I stood. Sometimes, it seemed, that you knew what I was thinking, without me having to say a word. You read my mood by my body language, or tone of voice, or by my facial expressions.
Most people do not have the patience that you had, Daddy. You were slow to anger, and even slower to judge. You always brought out the best in me. I always felt like it was real, between you and me. There was no pretense, just honest, loving, conversation.
I know there will never be any one else in my life like you, Daddy. You were the one and only, remarkable, irreplaceable, constant foothold which I relied on. I will always remember our times together. Memories are sweet. Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I love you.