A happy Father’s Day poem for a deceased dad
It’s been a year or two or three or more, I really don’t know or care because you’re gone. I’m a little jealous other children
get to celebrate with their dad who is alive — a tangible human they get to touch. Though physically gone, you’re alive — always have been. I realize my
trembling hands can’t feel the warmth of your manly hands or smell your distinct bodily scent, but those are only a few senses
we ever shared when you walked this planet. In some twisted way, I feel closer to you, on a level of spirit, intuition or just in the
parallel between my world and yours. Maybe it’s just my mind creating this alternate sense of belonging because
I miss you so much. In any case dad, I’m thinking of you this day and all the other days. Truly, there is no man who can or
will ever fill the universe size shoes you left.