Honestly Dad

Remaining parent,
for fifty years I was your daughter
Before you remembered me.

I adored you from my first moment
Pictures of me gazing into your hazelnut eyes,
My baby blues crinkled all smiles

when you walked into the room

Honestly Dad
You needed your newspaper, I needed my daddy.
Did you really have to toss me out of your easy chair?

You taught me to ride my first bike.
You took off just one of the training wheels.
I crashed into the rose bush.

Remember when we went to the Father/Daughter Dance?
The year was 1967
I was a ten-year old in a lime green mini dress.

We didn’t dance but we were together.
That was really nice.
The most handsome daddy in the world.

Remember when we went to buy my first car?
1971 Ford Maverick three on the tree.
I had never driven a manual transmission before.

You pointed the car up the hill, such a challenge
Trying to time it all perfectly to impress you with my driving skills.
It worked so much better when we turned the car around.

Honestly Dad

I wanted to follow in your successful footsteps
If I was a state forester like you, we’d have so much to talk about
“That’s a poor career choice for women” was your reply.

Remember when I tried to be a model in the big city?
I sent you a glossy black and white photo of ME
Eight and a half by eleven, all framed up

The glass was shattered in transit from Chicago to northern Minnesota
My life and my heart broken in pieces 1984
I think you got to see what I looked like anyway.

You walked me down the aisle and gave me away two times
The third time you couldn’t make it to the wedding
And that’s OK.

Thirty years since I left home
You never called me
You quickly passed the phone to Mom when I called

Now you call me every week
Honestly Dad
Why did it take Mom’s passing for you to remember me?


Important Stats for a Goose

  • 78,282 honks to date

What’s New? What’s Old?

April 2013