He called. He rarely calls unsolicited. I call him back addressing the receptionist by first name,

“Hello (Blank), is XXX in?”
“Yes he is – how have you been? Can you hold, he’s in the middle of something.”
“Of course”

Without fail or pause he will always take my call even if to say, “I’ll call you back”. I picture him, he’s larger in my visions than he is in life. He’s standing in front of a room at a pulpit surrounded by men in suits and dark attire. His phone rings. Grasping at his pants and trying to slam “SILENT” he notices and stops his finger from pushing “IGNORE”. Adoration and love forces him to respond, he can’t ignore me, LOVE won’t allow him.

I’m usually calling for the sake of calling, to ask his opinion on a business situation, and to hear the soothing echo of his voice. I’m fooling the office and pulling a mask over their ears leading my coworkers to believe I AM talking to a client. We hang up and he’ll forget to call me back for hours. HOURS. He’ll hide the smile on his face and presume a starched business manner. Only the smallest smurf or rebel notices its existence then he’ll say,

“I apologize, that was my daughter.”

Yesterday he called, for no reason other than,

“Hi honey – I haven’t talked to you in a week.”

“Dad, Can I call you back?”

“Of course. Remember to practice your jump shot.”

He smiles
I do too, thousands of miles apart.

Growing up I always felt as though you were larger than you are. The man who could save the world and shield me from it’s wicked wrath. As I got older I realized the world you faced every day was scarier and harder than the one you had created for me. I began to understand and experience the sacrifices you made while you and Mom designed our family life. Now, I’ve grown out of the reach of your safety net and away from your watchful eyes. But I’ll always be your little girl.

Happy Birthday Dad!

All my love,
Red Tornado