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It's not his birthday

or the anniversary of his death

It's not Father's Day

It's not my birthday, or Mom's, or Sissy's

It's not his wedding anniversary

or his granddaughter's graduation

It's not any kind of special day

It's Tuesday

and I miss my Dad

I want to tell him about the little girls in my herbal potions after school program

how we're drawing in his sketchbooks

and talking to the trees and plants and all learning from each other

I want to talk to him about the leaves changing colors

and how they aren't as vibrant this year

is it because of all the rain?

about the Black-eyed Susans out behind the garden shed

Ask him about his favorite Mary Oliver poem in the book I got him for Christmas

I want his help deciding which used pick-up truck to buy

I want to get frustrated that I have to talk too loud and repeat myself

because he can't hear me

and refuses to get a hearing aid

I want him to see his artwork hanging on the walls in every room in the farmhouse

I want him to see that I left that corporate job that he used to brag to his friends about

Even though I was very very scared

And how I took that money and built this life I have now

I want him to know that I see now we aren't so different after all

Like father, like daughter - as Mom used to say

I want to tell him how hard and how beautiful it is to be growing my own business

that I get to work with the plants and nature every single day

And reiki and energy too

but he wasn't that into that

I want him to tell me he's proud of me

I want him to tell me I"m the smartest person he knows

(he really did used to say that)

I want to tell him that I love him and I miss him all the time

all the time

and if I know we wouldn't have any more phone calls

That I would pick up

even when I didn't feel like talking

It's Tuesday

and I miss my Dad

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