Dad’s Day

To the dad that I’m lucky enough to write this about-

Bedtime puppet shows so we would giggle. 

Food coloring mixed with water so we could decorate the snow. 

Frisbees tossed on roof tops so you got full use out of your ladder.

Middle seat in the truck so we could help you shift gears. 

Colorful drawings in your closet so we could get one more magical visit from the tooth fairy. 

Work boots with long laces so we always got to untie them. 

You might not recall those moments, but we do. 

Because those moments, they built something much bigger than the moment itself. 

A world of safety. 

A sense of wonder.

A belief that we were always worth your time.

So when our worlds got bigger, we knew you’d still be there. 

Hugs to dry the tears even though you told us not to go to that party. 

Random trivia facts at dinner even though we wouldn’t recall in 10 minutes. 

Drive to the airport for basic training even if you didn’t want me to go.

First dance at a wedding even though she is your little girl. 

Moving boxes and full trailers even though you didn’t want to see us go. 

Father’s Day is just another day on the calendar for you, but not for us. 

Because when you are the kind of father who created a childhood where every day was more than just another day, that’s just how it goes.