this morning
I called my dad
my daughter was here
we planned to sing happy birthday
via intercom
when he said hello
I started right out
bellowing in my deepest non-existent baritone
but my daughter held back
when the last strain was sung
and dad was laughing
I said why didn’t you sing
and she said
I wasn’t sure it was him
I laughed
I guess I just know his voice so well
all I needed was one tiny hello
I knew it was my dad
the dad that has always held me up
believed in me
the dad that shook his head
when I came home drunk and said
I’m so disappointed in you
and then roused me at 7am to mow the lawn
and dig dandelion roots in 100-degree weather
never ever saying another word about it
the dad who on my fifth birthday
planted a tree in the back yard
a maple
josie’s tree
my own ring around the josie tree
my dad who taught me how to fish
and to love God’s Country
I will never smell pine and not think of him
my dad who everyday trudged off to work
teaching me work ethics by example
my dad
from whom all men in my life are measured
my dad who stood by my mom when we thought
we would lose her, hand feeding her day in
and day out
never leaving her side never giving up hope
my dad whom I know if I called right now
would drop any and everything he was doing
to be by my side if I so much as whispered that I need him
my dad
yeah I would recognize
a tiny hello
from him
anytime
anywhere

I only hope my daughter will
recognize
a tiny hello
from me
as well
when I’m sixty-six

Happy Birthday Dad
I love you
josie