Sorry Dad,

I can’t help but think of all the excuses I made not to call you. Background noise, bad reception, and busy.  

That last excuse cuts me so deep.  

You never complained, nagged, or said anything. Leading me to believe you were fine with it. Yet, I have this funny feeling you weren’t. That deep down you did want me to call more.  

There is a part of me that wants to say, “well, it goes both ways” but that isn’t helpful or fair.  

I regret every phone call I didn’t make.  

You are still here, I go see you, talk to you, you try to talk back, I don’t understand you. It’s irony, here I am spending more time with you than ever, but we still can’t talk.  

I remember the half-assed hug and goodbye I gave you last time we saw each other, I again, was distracted by what was going on around me.  

Dad, I hope you forgive me, I hope you know I loved you.