“I’ve stopped for some ice cream,” he said into his cell phone,
standing in the center of the ice cream shop,
talking loud enough for all of us
and those in the sandwich shop next door to hear.
“Do you want me to bring you something, hon?”
And in that single question
from the lips of a man I’ve never seen before
and will never see again,
I missed my Daddy in what can only be called
a tsunami of tremendous ache
that lingers right beneath the surface,
regardless of how many calendar pages I’ve torn off.
~~ :: ~~