My dad wore shorts

Today would have been my dad’s birthday.  It didn’t seem to matter to Dad that his presentation wasn’t all it could be.  “If you don’t dress up,” I’d whine, “you’re gonna make a bad impression.” 

“If people don’t like me how I am,” he’d answer, “too bad.”  And for the handful who judged him on his cover, it was too bad.  Too bad for them.  He was a larger than life character with a heart that matched his girth.  A father who supported his children in their dreams and held their hands during their struggles. 

Lucky the man down on his luck who ran into him with no insurance.  Dad let him go as he drove away in his dinged up maroon van without reporting the accident.  Lucky the young children in town who crossed his path after he purchased a large bouquet of helium balloons.  Lucky the four adults who claimed him as their dad.

So Dad this memory is for you…

Let me tell you a little secret about my Dad
He never followed any kind of fashion fad.

He liked shorts big, and roomy, and long,
He would never, ever be tempted to wear a thong.

He liked his shorts in colors nice and bright
Like the kind that sparkle and glow in the night.

And because Mom put them on her sewing docket,
They always had a big in-the-front pocket.

In his long shorts, he could go almost anywhere,
a church social, the beach, or even the county fair.

Even though his belly grew to be a big round circle,
Mom dipped the waist in the middle so he wouldn’t look like Urkel.

I sure did love my Dad, even in his uncomely shorts,
Laid back in his worn-out recliner chair, watching sports.

Picturing you in Heaven, in your spacious shorts, with a pocketful of miracles, and wings large enough to support you makes me smile. 

Your loving daughters

Related posts:

1. This one’s for you, Mom
2. Just like Grandma
3. Tribute to fathers
4. Baby of the family
5. Second born