~ My Father Never Told Me ~
My Father never told me how much he loved me, but when he saw that things were rough, he was one of the first responders.
He never told me that I was dear to him when he was hiding behind a bunch of pussy willows that he had picked for me, because he knew I was too ill to go out and get them before they were gone.
I opened a door that had been knocked on to find both the doorway and my eyes filled with those sweet little soft gray buds, and deep within the branches were my father’s eyes peeking out at me.
He never told me that I was special to him when I got up and
looked out the window one morning to find him raking up all
the old dead leaves and then mowing to take the sad late fall
off my yard and turn it into an early spring.
He would never say how much I meant to him when my truck came back home after he needed to borrow it for some little reason, and I saw that it had been washed and waxed. I opened the door to see not one speck of dirt inside and the smell of Armor All greeted me.
He couldn't find the words to say that I was his girl as he cheered me on around that last curve of the 440 when I came in second but oh- so- close to first , too upset to talk to anyone; not even him, as I walked away in the opposite direction I heard him calling my name.
He would never have taken the time to say that he was fond of me as I went through the adolescent pains of learning to drive, he would slump into the passenger side of our old jeep and pull his hat down over his face and say “ Hit it.”
He never told me how much he cared about me as he sat beside me with tears in his eyes and handed me a card that said that he was sorry for everything that had ever gone wrong.
How could I ever know how much my Father loved me, because he never told me so.
