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I’ve always been your little girl,
Even now that I’m an adult.
Yes, I know I’ll always be your baby,
And I grew up way too fast.
But there’s something I can’t stop from happening dad,
And in some ways that’s your fault.
Don’t grow old dad.
Please, not quite yet.
No, don’t shake your head at me.
Don’t tell me to man up!

It’s a big world out there dad,
And I’m not ready to go alone yet.
I watched your hair turn from brown to grey,
And more wrinkles adorn your face.

In my world, you were always a star.
You encouraged me to never give up, to try and go far.
I’d sit with you and talk about life,
And argue over what we watched on the television.

I know there have been times where I got mad,
Or said things I didn’t mean.
And all the times I blew you off,
Or didn’t talk to you much.
I know you don’t see it that way,
But I have been inattentive.

You’re getting older,
Each and every passing day.
I see it in the way your energy dwindles,
And in the languid movements you do.
But even if you were ninety-nine,
I’d pray to never go a single day without you.

I know the day is coming.
I know that on that day,
You’ll want me to be strong.
You’ll smile at me from wherever you are,
And hope that I’m not too sad.
Yes dad, I know you don’t want me to be sad at all.
But the fact of the matter is I will.
Probably for a limitless amount of time.

Don’t shake your head again,
Don’t shrug me off or say,
“Don’t shed a single tear for me child,
I’ll be in a better place.”
How will I know?
I’m not sure I believe.
Maybe there is a heaven, and quite possibly a hell.
But how do I know that your afterlife is promised?

What will I do without you?
Who will remind me to do things?
Even when I say I’ll remember?
And who else can I confide with everything?
No. Don’t tell me that I’ll figure it out.
Don’t tell me to trust myself!
Your absence will be a great void,
One that I’m certain will never be filled.

You’re the only person I’ve ever liked hugging me.
The only person who has always believed in me.
The reason I didn’t descend into the darkness of my insanity.
The reason I wake up every morning and attempt to show optimism.
Better yet, you’re my best friend.
Yeah, I know. I give that term too freely, to everyone I know.
But rest assured dad, that no matter the number,
No one can match your soul.

Dad, stop trying to convince me not to be sad.
This time I mean it!
Just let me be sad, and angry, and bitter.
Let me believe in your goodness.
Let me be proud of your progress!
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