Card

A beautiful, sunny Sunday morning
a breakfast of brownies and french bread.
A movie is playing.
The phone starts ringing.
"Now, who is that?" runs through my head.

Covers thrown back from my blanket fortress,
upsetting my picnic spread.
Stomping to the phone
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"Amanda. Daddy's dead."

"Impossible! No! You're Lying! No!
This doesn't make any sense!"
Crash to the floor
phone in hand
as my muscles begin to tense.

Sam doesn't know yet; she is at breakfast
Sonjah can't reach her at all.
My sister, my heart
WHERE ARE YOU?
As I frantically try to call.

Scott left two days earlier
for Oklahoma, to see family
I can't find him, either!
My body is breaking!
I need him now, here, with me!

They finally find out; THIS ISN'T HAPPENING!
My little sis catches a flight.
We meet at the airport,
fly to Billings together
as my husband drives through the night.

Sonjah's parents and brothers are all at the house
wandering in disbelief.
And she's just a wreck
not remotely consolable
her entire world shattering in grief.

The carols, the sleigh bells - the Christmas sounds
they fall upon deaf ears.
We don't see twinkle lights
or brightly wrapped packages
as our eyes are burned by tears.

The tree is half up; they had already started
only the night before.
Extension cords, boxes
decorations and such,
were scattered all over the floor.

That time was a blur, a shadow, a fog
Just shells of your daughters and wife.
"He'll always be here."
"He's with you," people said.
"Now you've got to get on with your life!"

Spoken with the best intentions, I'm sure,
worded carefully to help us heal.
Though we're not the only people
that have lost someone
One can't really know how another may feel.

And today I'm upset. I'm weepy.
I AM MAD.
My family has been cheated
and I feel betrayed
by the loss of the World's Greatest Dad.

A singer, a songwriter, an insurance agent,
a husband, a father, a friend.
A camper, a fisher, a guitar player.
He was
the most soft-hearted soul 'til the end.

Now, today, on what would have been
the start of your fifty-ninth year,
there won't be a cake
and all I can give
is a poem that you'll never hear.

Maybe you're celebrating with Grandma and Grandpa
I'm going to believe that it's true.
Maybe happy, and healthy,
and gobbling up
a pudding cake made just for you.

Here, we'll keep on going; we know that we must.
Daddy, some days it's impossibly hard.
Like times like today
Knowing I'll never again
Send you a birthday card.

But I know how lucky Sam and I are
to have had such an amazing Dad.
I'm sure Sonjah is thinking
of her sweet Matthew,
of the gift of the husband she had.

I'm going to dig into my memories,
the best of the ones most happy.
Grateful for the time we had with you;
We know that's
how you'd want us to be.

I gift-wrap for you all the hugs in my heart
and, really, all I wanted to say:
I miss you ridiculously,
love you ten times more,
and I wish you a Happy Birthday.

I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.