Hey Bill,
way back when you were still my Old Man
here on Planet Earth,
never in a million years did I think
I would miss all the crazy craziness of you.
All your loud noisy messiness,
your clatter and clumsiness,
your reckless defiance
and convenient deafness.
Never did I think I would miss
the way you yelled at the television set,
all the crappy crumbs you left behind
after you finished eating,
the irritating clinking of the spoon
when you stirred your coffee,
the way you stunk up the bathroom
and left a rim of whiskers
and shaving cream in the sink,
your scary false teeth
staring up from the bottom of the glass,
your squished tubes
of Bengay and Brylcreem
in the medicine cabinet
along with a pharmacist’s wet dream
of prescription drugs,
your ranting and raving
about some invisible injustice or another,
your unapologetic farting and belching
whenever and wherever,
and your endless cursing and swearing
at everything and everyone
in English and Finnish
and Finglish.
Never did I think there would come a day
when I would miss all that.
But I do.
I also miss that you loved me.
Completely.
Unconditionally.
Wholeheartedly.
And I also miss all the signs
of your fatherly love
that were woven and stitched
and pasted together
sweetly and kindly
and tenderly and generously
throughout all that other stuff.
I miss it all.
I miss you Dad.
