Dad, You Didn’t Have to Say, “I love you.”
I knew, by the way you worked
hard in the steel mill
and in the garden to put
food on the table.
By the way you let me sit
on your lap
and showed ou how I could
count to 100.
By the way you read me
stories in your monotone.
By the way you taught me
how to fish.
But the way you teased me by
doing things
like putting orange
peelings between my toes.
Or by hiding behind a tree
and snarling like a bobcat.
By the way you put up with
my teasing you
about being bald and
grumpy.
By the way you hollered
when I did something
wrong.
By teaching me honesty
through example.
By the way you felt my
grief
when I broke up with my
first serious boyfriend.
By the way you walked me
down the aisle
even after a recent
surgery.
By the way you cried
when we had to return home
from a visit.
You never said the words,
but you didn’t have to.
Remix of November 14th
poem
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