Dallas Dave

I am writing this

Because Father’s Day

Is coming

And I want to tell you

I’m sorry

For a bunch of stuff I did

Then when I get finished


For all that stuff I did,

I am gonna forgive you

For something

You did.

I’m sorry for crying like a baby

Though I was five

When we were at Carolina Beach

On vacation

And I didn’t want to ride anything

And you said

“Wendell, that boy needs to ride something”

And y’all went from place to place,

Ride to ride,

And I shook my head

And blubbered

But you wanted me to ride sumthin’

And I cried

And wouldn’t ride a durn thing

And during the turmoil

My two older sisters

Got lost

And when we got back to the car

They weren’t there

And you said to stay


I didn’t hear you say it

But I have been told

In fact, I don’t remember any of it,

But your wife told me about it,

And she always tells it the same way

So I know it’s true

We waited at the car

And sure ‘nuff

The two sisters showed

And they were cryin’ too

A cryin’ bunch I reckon

Anyway, I’m sorry bout that

And I’m sorry ‘bout when all the men

Would be standing

Out in the churchyard

After Sunday school

Before preachin’

And y’all would be talkin’

And I would interrupt

And I would want to be

The center of attention

And I guess maybe I done that.

Your friends would laugh,

Good naturedly,

At the little red head chubster,

And Cleff Carpenter would even

Let me measure against him

And not get embarrassed

Or mad

‘Cause he was awful short

But you put up with it

I don’t remember but a couple times

When we were on the way home

To eat country style steak

And rice your wife would usually scorch

Just a coupla times you said

“Ya know, David could be quieter

When I am talkin’

To the men

In the church yard”

And you would look at me

Kinda hard

But you never got real mad

And I reckon I was hard headed

“Cause I know I never quit

Doin’ it.

But now I’m tellin’ you

I’m sorry for it.

And I’m sorry for that time

When I made you late for work

‘Cause I pitched a fit

About a long sleeved shirt

Momma gave me to wear

But the left sleeve was missing

A button

And I pitched a fit.

The school bus came and went

Taking Linda and Dottie

Leaving the Blubbering Baby

You tried to reason with me.

You said, “Here’s what to do,”

And you unbuttoned your long sleeved shirt,

And you rolled your sleeves

And then you grinned at me.

“See there, you can do that

Nobody will know

A button is missing,

Looky, I’ll even do it for you,”

And I let you do it

And you rolled ‘em up

And I quit cryin’

And you drove me to school

And you were late for work.

I’m sorry ‘bout all that.

There’s a bunch more things

I’m sure

That I’m sorry about

But I’ll leave ‘em alone

The last thing I’m sorry about


When you were real sick

You had lost a bunch of weight

And Momma had to go to Belk’s

And buy you a pair of pants

And a shirt

‘Cause you had got so poor.

I don’t remember the shirt

But the pants were seersucker

This wardrobe was needed

‘Cause you had an appointment

A doctor’s appointment

You had been in

And out

Of the hospital

And I remember

When you and Momma got home

I was outside

At the side porch

And you got out of the car

The ’59 Ford

Momma had gone into the house

And I blurted out

“Daddy, do you have to go back

Into the hospital?”

And I saw the tears


In your eyes

And you went on inside

Daddy, I’m sorry ‘bout that

I know it made you sad

Well, that’s about all of it,

‘Bout all the things I can think of.

I’m sure there’s plenty more,

But I suppose this is a plenty.

Now I want to forgive you





I want to forgive you

For what you took

From me.

‘Cause I been mad about it

Been mad ‘bout you dying

But I was talkin’

To some

Of my buddies

And ole Joe Ratchford

He said sumpin’

That made sense.

He looked at me

With them big brown eyes

(Looked kinda like a cow’s eyes –

His momma’s were the same)

It was recess at Costner School

And I was in the sixth grade

And you hadn’t been gone long.

Joe said, “Well David,

Don’t you know

Your daddy had no choice.”

Well, I thought about that

And I figgered ole Joe

Was right.

I reckon you couldn’t do nuthin’

Bout it.

So, Daddy, I have decided

To forgive you.

Happy Father’s Day.

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