Father’s Day 2017

Posted on by writerchick

I lost my dad over twenty years ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I can easily call up the pain, the loss, and the tears. And it makes me realize just how incredible love and the human connection it creates, is.

I hope that those of you out there who still have a dad in the here and now are planning something nice for him. And I hope that those of you who have lost their fathers, have some peace in the love that remains in your heart for your dad.

Have a blessed Father’s Day weekend.

❤ Annie

 

Father’s Day Blues

Posted on by writerchick

dad

Every June I sing the tune of missing you
Where are you, Pop?
Over the moon?
Watching a game
Having a beer?

I wonder about that.
You’re gone
But where did you go
When you left
This place called life?

Can you give me a hint?
Drop me a feather
Paint a little picture in the clouds?
Just a little celestial wave of the hand
So I know you’re still out there.
Somewhere…

So I know
You think about me sometimes too
Just every now and then
No pressure
I’ll listen between the sighs
Real hard
For your laugh
Okay?
It’ll be our secret

Copyright 2015

Father’s Day Missing #21

Posted on by writerchick

fathers day 21

You’ve been gone a long time.

And you’d think by now I’d be used to the idea. You’d think that I wouldn’t wonder what your opinion would be about all the crazy crap going on in the world today.

You’d think that the arrival of Father’s Day wouldn’t still hurt like hell when I realize there is no place to send a gift, a card or place a call.

But hell, you’re my dad and I still miss you.

I still want to call you up when I’m feeling blue or when something kick-ass happens. Or when I hear a really funny story. Or even when I see a Budweiser commercial.

I still feel the need for your wisdom. For your perspective. For your cantankerous attitude about all things flaky.

I laugh when I imagine what you’d say about political correctness, climate change and the outlawing of plastic bags and light bulbs.

The worst part is not knowing where you are.

Are you living a new life in Minnesota as a slack millennial? Are you organizing a country band in Heaven? Are you blissfully floating out there in the ether? Or are you just sitting on my shoulder, whispering, everything is going to be all right?

Wherever you are I hope they have boats, Budweiser and country music. I hope they have good coffee and color TV. I hope you’re happy.

I hope that you know that I love you and miss you and wish you were here.

All my ♥

Anita

This Father’s Day

Posted on by writerchick

Every year around Father’s Day I get a little weepy because my dad is no longer with us. Put frankly, I miss the hell out of him. I wish he were still here. I wish today I was taking him out for a pancake breakfast and a round of mini-golf, or trekking out to (God forbid) Disney Land so we could go It’s a Small World and the Pirates of the Caribbean a bagillion times.

I think about times we could have spent together but didn’t because we lived 3,000 miles apart. I still can’t listen to Johnny Cash without getting teary-eyed because Cash was one of Dad’s favorites. Ditto with Budweiser commercials, Rodeo movies, and soft-serve chocolate ice cream.

I think my dad was my very first friend. I suppose I am like millions of other daughter’s who were daddy’s girls. And my memories of him are like a crazy mixed-up collage of lessons learned, laughs shared, reflections, realizations, simple pleasures, weird adventures, heated debates and knowing that I was loved.

Dad wasn’t perfect – far from it and I have no desire to idolize him. He was a man with many flaws and could be stubborn as hell. But he was real and he was honest. He knew who he was. He took his responsibilities seriously but he never took life too seriously. He wasn’t politically correct, subtle or fashionable. He was just Lucky. He was just a man who worked hard, loved his family and did everything he could to help and he was my dad.

Happy Father’s Day Dad – hope all is well where you are – that you’re having fun and finding lots of things to laugh about – that the coffee is hot and strong, that the sun is shining and you’re spending time watching the boats in the harbor. That your camera always has film, your radio has a country music station and calories don’t count in heaven.

Love,
Me

Dear Dad (happy father’s day)

Posted on by writerchick

Dear Dad,

Here we are once again. To say I miss you doesn’t begin to state the absence I feel.  Every day I think about you and wonder where you are. In heaven? In another life? In some paralell universe? Do they have Budweiser and country music there?

What bothers me is that lately  I’m forgetting. Not you. Not the events of that past life. But the sound of your voice. The lines of your craggy face. Your presence. The connection. I fight it but maybe it is time to let go. Maybe that is the way it is supposed to be. Maybe I’m not letting  you move on and you need to. Still, it’s hard to open my clutching hand. It’s hard to set you free. It’s hard to let you have a life without me.

You will always be my hero. You will always be the most important person in my life. I will never forget the lessons you taught me. I am proud to be your daughter. The morning sky will always make me think of your eyes. And summer tomatoes and Wheaties and black coffee and chocolate ice cream cones.

Thanks Dad – for being you. For being there.

Love,

Me

Hi Dad

Posted on by writerchick

old-truck

Hi Dad,

Another year. Another Father’s Day. I’m reminded of you in ways both good and bad.

Good because of all the laughs and late night heart to hearts. The smiles and in jokes. The funny looks and winks.

Bad because those times are gone and have been for some time. And the years march on and there are so many things that have happened that I wanted to tell you about. And I do. But I’m not really sure if you’re still ‘out there’ listening.

I know you’re still ‘here’ inside my heart. I know that I keep that place warm and safe. Keep it a nice place for you to visit.

I miss you in ways that defy words. Deep missings.

And on some level, I know that you know.

Even though I can’t call you with news and events of my whacky life – I’m hopeful you still get the memo.

I never forget. I always remember. You are my dad. My hero. My angel.

Love,

A