Remembering Dad: The Scent of Honeysuckle and the Wooden Dock

Dear Dad,

It has been months since I last heard your laugh or felt the safety of your embrace, but the world still feels full of you. Sometimes, I close my eyes and I am back on that old wooden dock. The air is thick with the smell of honeysuckle, just like it was on those long afternoons we spent fishing. You didn’t just teach me how to catch a fish back then; you were teaching me patience. You were teaching me to find joy in the stillness.

Those moments are the compass I use now to navigate a world without you.

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The First Man I Ever Loved

They say home is where the heart is, but you taught me that home is where love begins. You were the first man I ever loved, the first to hold me when I cried, and the first to make me feel truly seen.

I still look for you in the sunsets, knowing you’re watching over me. I hear your voice in the laughter of my own children playing in the yard. It’s strange how grief works—my heart aches with missing you, yet it smiles through the tears because of the gift that you were. You aren’t just a memory; you are the standard by which I measure kindness and strength.

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Weekend Pancakes and Friday Night Lights

It’s the small things I miss the most. I miss the ritual of birthday pancakes before school, the smell of batter filling the kitchen. I miss the excitement of Friday night ball games, sitting beside you, cheering until our voices were hoarse.

Those weren’t just days on a calendar; they were the lessons that lasted a lifetime. You taught me that showing up matters. You taught me that love is an action. Every time I face a tough choice now, I can almost hear your whisper, guiding me toward integrity, reminding me to be humble and kind.

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A Hand on My Shoulder

For a son, a father is the blueprint. Even now, I feel your gentle hand on my shoulder, steering me away from trouble before I even realize the danger. “How’s my boy?” I can hear you ask.

I carry your strength within me—the resilience you instilled that allows me to get up every time life knocks me down. You taught me that being a good man means hard work, honor, and compassion. I walk taller today because I am trying to walk in your footsteps. I hope I have made you proud.

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The Hand That Rests on My Shoulder Still

I found this poem, Dad, and it speaks the words my heart struggles to say:

I cannot hold your hand this day,
Or hear your laugh that used to stay
Like music in this old house,
Filling every cranny, nook and crouse.

And yet I feel you still quite near,
The lessons you instilled so dear
Now guide my steps from day to day
And show me how to find my way.

Your gentle spirit walks with me,
Reminding of who I used to be –
The child secure within your arms,
Protected from this world of harms.

But though this life I walk alone,
Your love remains within my home,
A warm embrace I still can feel
You gave me strength to make me real.

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To the Moon and Back

On the days when the silence feels too loud, like Father’s Day or your birthday, I don’t look for you in the cemetery. I look for you in the life I’m living.

I can’t buy you a gift this year, so I am sending you my gratitude instead. Thank you for the “I love you to the moon and back” moments. Thank you for the discipline that shaped me and the laughter that lightened the load.

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I promise to keep telling your stories. I will pass on the lessons of the fishing dock to the next generation. I will live a life of integrity that would bring that cheeky grin to your face.

You are not gone, Dad. You’ve just gone ahead. Until we meet again, I’ll keep you safe in my heart.

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