Can’t I have just one more day?
One more day of hearing you telling me about our ancestors and explaining how important it is to remember them. And now you’re there with them on the other side of that veil. One more day of you explaining to me how to hold a carving knife and how to bend my fingers back so my knuckles are flush with the edges of the knife while chopping down… and watching you move so fast as the vegetables fall into pieces. One more day of you singing with Mom around the campfire, the car, the kitchen, or at the Club Car with Scottie playing the piano on Nantucket. One more night of you tucking me in and saying “Snug as a bug in a rug…” along with those bear hugs that squeezed me so tight as if all the love you had was pouring into my body. One more day of you complaining… I’d even take that, as long as I could hear your voice again. Your knee, the weather, the man at the dealership, the way kids are brought up right anymore, the traffic on Route 28 or the bridge, the food not being exactly perfect… just anything. Tell me again how much you love me. Just say, “My Darling Daughter…” one more time.
One more day to just be with. To feel your rough hand in mine. Those hands that have held so much life. From building Billy a toy chest that looked like a train car, to my doll house, to a garden in the back yard for Mom, to helping Jamie with his Lego sets and always the fabulous food you created for the family and the masses of people that ate at the restaurants and private homes you cooked in. Chef Bill, Cookin’ Bill and the many nicknames you got all from creating what you loved. All those dozens of hours on your model railroad kits in the basement, or projects for the boy scouts, or putting up a tent in the back yard… or holding your Grandbabies in your arms. Brushing your fingers against their cheeks or tickling them into submission. But best of all, was when you grabbed hold and didn’t let go. Please, just once more.
One more dance, Dad. Remember that time I put my feet on yours and we waltzed around. I couldn’t stop giggling as you hummed some music. I looked up at you… so tall and sturdy, smiling down at me, your eyes sparkling with fun. I remember you taking Mom into your arms at least a dozen different times, dancing around. It felt so warm, seeing my parents so in love and having fun. And the first dance with Julie as your brand new daughter in-law, in her long white wedding dress. You had such style, Dad. We can’t deny that. We just miss it.
Come stand by the ocean with your legs firmly rooted in the sand, face turned to the sun, just taking it in. Go hang out with Jamie on the beach one last time. Have that father son talk he longs for… just once again. He needs you, Dad. I know you worry about him too. Just walk with us again, at least for a day.
Wake up, oh why won't you wake up our hearts are longing for one more... everything