Things I Never Said

“Hey, son... it’s your dad. Nothing important. Just wanted to hear your voice. Call me when you get the chance.” I took the long way through the old neighborhood, Past the house where the basketball hoop once stood. The porch light’s gone, but the maple tree remains, And the road still shines the same after rain. Your old voicemail plays through the speakers low, You said, “Call me back,” but that was months ago. I keep both hands steady on the wheel, Like holding on can change what’s real. Every streetlight finds me, Then leaves me in the dark. I thought there would be more time, I never thought this far. These are the things I never said, The thank-yous living in my chest, The nights you stayed beside my bed, The way you always gave your best, I hope somehow you hear me where you rest. You taught me how to change a tire in the cold, How to keep my word and do what I was told. You never talked much about the weight you carried, You just went to work and came home tired and worried. I used to think your silence meant you didn’t care, Now I know love was hidden everywhere. In the coffee waiting early by the door, And every time you gave me what you couldn’t afford. I remember slammed doors, And words I can’t take back. You always let me leave angry, But you never turned your back. These are the things I never said, The thank-yous living in my chest, The nights you stayed beside my bed, The way you always gave your best, I hope somehow you hear me where you rest. I hope you knew I loved you, Even when I walked away. I hope you knew I needed you, Though I was too proud to say. I passed the field where you first let go Of the seat behind my bicycle. I shouted, “Don’t leave,” but you knew I’d be alright, You ran beside me till I learned to ride. Maybe being a father is letting someone go, While staying close enough that they never really know. How many times you caught them before they fell, How many fears you carried but would never tell. I would give anything for one more ordinary day, You complaining about the weather, Me pretending not to stay. One more cup across the table, One more story I already know, One more chance to let you finish Before I say I have to go. I’d tell you I forgive you. I’d ask forgiveness too. I’d say I finally understand What life demanded from you. You were there. You were there. You were always there. These are the things I never said, The thank-yous living in my chest, The nights you stayed beside my bed, The way you always gave your best, I hope somehow you hear me where you rest. These are the words that came too late, The love I thought could always wait, You gave me more than I could see, And everything you had to me, I hope somehow you hear me where you rest. The neighborhood disappears behind, Your voice keeps playing one more time. “Nothing important, son. Just call me when you can.” I’m calling now, Dad. I’m sorry it took so long.