I Didn't Call You Daddy

You weren’t there the day I was born; you never had the pleasure of changing one of my diapers. There were so many things that you were there for that those that you missed just aren’t that important.

What is important are all the times you were there. To teach me to play softball, to allow me to play on your summer team as a teenager in the days before there were leagues for girls. You were there to grind off the 1st tooth on my figure skates so I could play hockey on the pond with the boys. You were the one that taught me to shoot pool when I had to stand on a chair to reach the table. If it wasn’t for these bi-focal’s I could probably still be pretty good.

You took me into the garage and taught me how to use each tool and why it was so important to use the right tool for the job. You took me to the shop with you on weekends and holidays and to this day I still know how to pick a tumbler lock. Because of you I have a Mechanical Engineering Degree.

You taught me how to catch fish and had the patience of Job the night you caught that 27” Northern Pike and I got it so tangled up in the net it took almost an hour before you could cast your line again.

You were there when I graduated from high school and college. You didn’t laugh at me the night you came to one of my road trip college basketball games and came out onto the court with an afro.

You were the one that taught me laughter could get you through the really bad times. Some might say I have an interesting sense of humor. Remember the time you were in the hospital and we sent you a dozen long rose ‘stems’. Yes just the stems, we had the florist cut the blooms off. You laughed so hard the nurses came to see if you were ok and you displayed them proudly in a vase the entire time you were in the hospital.

You were there for one of the most difficult times of my life, when Donald died. You probably never knew that I heard you and mom in your bedroom the 1st night after I got home and you were crying and asking why not you. You would have gladly have taken his place in death.

You were there when you should have been in the hospital, refusing to go until after Christmas so you could see me when you gave me the Grandfathers clock you built. You poured your last energy into that clock that is gently ticking next to me right now; you never did come home again.

After I left for college I started to call you Dad, officially you were my step-dad but I regret to this day that I never called you Daddy.