Happy Father’s Day. This is my sixth without you, and I’m still not used to it.
I’m getting married next month. I wish you could be there, even though you’d probably hate it. You’d hate having to do things on cue in a place that doesn’t allow smoking. Although maybe we would have gotten married in a park just to keep you from missing the whole thing for smoke breaks.
I’ve been wondering what song we would have danced to, but I get too sad and I can never follow that line of thought to a conclusion. It would have been a tough decision to make.
Clarence Clemons died yesterday. He had a stroke too. Is it weird I’m proud you died the same way as the Big Man? Yes. Yes it is. Sorry. [Also, I don't really believe in heaven, but I am having a ball right now imagining you and Mom playing bridge with Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici.]
And I think I just realized that we would have danced to the “drive all night” part from the Darkness Tour version of “Backstreets.” [Not the track off The River, because that blows] The lyric “taste your tender charms” is probably too sexual, but that problem plagues a lot of Daddy-Daughter Dances, and I’m willing to overlook it because “I’d drive all night, anytime, anyplace, just to buy you some shoes” is basically the Jersey Poet way of expressing your oft-stated Policy of “anything for my little Robin.”
It’s weird that you never met Collin. It’s weirder still that Collin never met you. I think you would have liked him, after you got over him not being afraid of you. And I want to say “Collin would have liked you, because he likes me so much,” but that is excessively complimentary to me.
You don’t know the man I’m marrying. You don’t know the President of the United States is black. You don’t know the resolution to the mystery in Season 2 of Veronica Mars. You don’t know I’m a lawyer.
You don’t know how much I miss you. And I don’t have the words to express it.
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I love you.