[Verse 1]

I used to think you were just tall—

towering over every worry I had.

Now I see you were mapping stars,

quietly steering me through the bad.

You’d hum off-key while fixing bikes,

say “life’s a wheel, kid—keep it spinning.”

I laughed then. Now I’m grinning—

turns out you were right all along. Hey Dad, you’re not gone—you’re just lighter,

floating in every joke I tell.

I love you like coffee at dawn,

like that old flannel still smells like hell—

but good hell, the kind that warms.

You taught me grace without saying grace,

and I’m carrying your laugh in my chest.

Forever? Yeah—forever’s just us. Remember the time you “fixed” the TV?

Screen went blue, you blamed the cat.

We ate popcorn in the dark anyway—

best movie night we never had.

You’d wink like secrets were currency,

and I hoarded every one.

Now I spend them on my own kids,

watch their eyes light up—same as mine did. So yeah, I’m yelling at traffic now,

same growl you used on the lawnmower.

And when the fridge hums too loud,

I swear it’s you—checking if I’m fed.

I don’t miss you. I just… keep you close.

Like a pocket watch that still ticks.

Tick-tock, old man—still guiding me.

No rush. I’ll catch up later. Hey Dad, you’re not gone—you’re just lighter,

woven into every “I love you” I say.

I love you like rain on hot pavement,

like that dumb dance you did anyway.

You’re the why behind my stubborn grin,

the how behind my steady hands.

So thanks—for the map, for the mess,

for being mine. Always mine. And if heaven’s got a porch swing—

save me a spot. I’ll bring the beer.

We’ll argue about nothing,

then laugh till the stars come near.

Love you, Dad.

(Yeah… still do.)