Blue, green, white stripes on a rectangular bag

Tissue paper atop

On my table

Mid-summer

It takes me back

For there’s a gift inside

I can’t wait to give

A wide-brimmed hat

Flip flops

Chocolate raisinets

Mementos of my childhood

Marvelous times I can’t forget

For you and my mother made it so good

We went to church on Sundays

The idyllic American family of the 90s

But it reminds me

The best thing was when my mother worked

We canned church

And instead we grabbed towels and the dog

You hauled the kayak and we went to the beach

Then we went to eat brunch with your parents

We wore dress clothes

Back at home we hid the swimsuits and flippers so Mama wouldn’t know

You let me and my brother watch The Terminator and Jurassic Park

You cooked us Ramen Noodles after dark

I looked up to Sara Conner

You and my brother held guns

In your presence I felt like the luckiest one

I saw your surfboard in the garage

And your award on my grandfather’s wall

Your trophy in the case at the school where I played basketball

Stories you never told

But I heard whispers that you are a legend, after all

We all have some white hair now

Getting old

But slower than most

At 72 still working and healthy, kayaking

But you’re not one to boast

My heart has slowed down a little too

Learning to relax in the marketplace

To do good

Like you would

In all I hope I made you proud

Before time runs out

Can we grab our flippers and snorkels

Put church on hold once more

Let’s go to the beach

A distant shore

Maybe we’ll run into Daisy, Misty, Skipper, Chester, Squeeks, Sassy, Fluffy, Zelda

All the creatures we loved along the way

As we float past the pumpkin patch

The basketball courts

The kitchen table

Willoughby

If you do the math

It’s clear to see

Time’s fleeting

I hope you know I’m still believing

Let’s bring my mom and brother too

To the distant shores anew

Before time runs out

And one more thing: Please don’t doubt that you’ve been the best dad a girl could ever have