I miss you in all the little ways—
like when the grass gets too tall,
or I forget to check the oil,
or the guy at Home Depot asks,
“You got everything you need?”

You’d probably look at me and say,
“Well, I guess you’re a real grown-up now, huh?
You got it all figured out?”

I’d roll my eyes and tell you,
“I moved to Tennessee.
All alone.
All on my own.”
And the fireflies come out in June—
they always remind me of you.

I wish I could call you.
Your number’s still on my phone.

Sometimes I get these big ideas about life,
the kind you used to have
when you thought I wasn’t really paying attention.

But I always was.
And I still am.

You used to wonder what it was all for.
I think I’ve found the answer.

It’s for moments like this—
when I miss you more than I can put into words,
and I realize just how deeply I was loved.
Now I’m doing this life,
and I just want to tell you all about it.

I know you’d be proud of me—
for figuring things out on my own,
for not settling,
for somehow not setting the lawn on fire,
even though I still don’t always mow it.

You’d ask me if the roof’s been looked at,
if the gutters are cleaned,
and probably if I’ve remembered to pray lately.

I think you’d like the way I talk to God now.

And one day, when I tell you I met someone,
I know you’ll ask:
“Does he know how to change a tire?
Does he treat you good?
Does he think you hung the moon?”

And if he doesn’t,
you’d just say,
“Then move on, my girl.”

But I’ll say yes.
And you’ll know I mean it.

It hurts not having you here, Dad.
But I carry you with me
in my curiosity,
in my kindness,
and in my inability to not first see the best in everyone.

You gave me that.
You gave me the ability to find meaning in the mess.
You’re the reason I ask questions.
You’re the reason I believe there’s more.

I can’t wait to see you again.
Just know—I wouldn’t change a thing,
even though you were gone too soon.

I’m forever grateful I had a dad like you.

And I know—if you were here,
you’d just grin and say,
“Don’t worry. Just like you always told me, you’ll figure it out. You always do.

---

If this resonated with you, you’ll love the podcast. It’s where I share the raw, the real, and the wild mess that led me home to myself.

Listen to Wandering the Wild Mess wherever you get your podcasts. Apple, Spotify, & YouTube

Follow me on Instagram

#GriefHealing #LossOfADad #WritingThroughGrief #PoemForMyDad #FatherDaughterLove #MissingYouDad #GoneTooSoon #HonoringMyFather #GriefJourney #HealingThroughWords #LifeAfterLoss #LegacyOfLove #EmotionalPoetry #GriefSupport #VlogFromTheHeart #HeartfeltWriting #PersonalGrowthBlog #WildMessMoments #WanderingTheWildMess #HeatherDyanMorgan