and loudly cheered "How to Go!!"
I'd roll my eyes, and jog by to correct him
"It's way to go! Dad, Way to go!"
He was raised by a man with a potty mouth
And Dad didn't like it one bit
In my whole life, I've never heard him cuss
I don't count " Great Gobs of Blue Geese!"
(what did you think I was going to say there?)
He taught me to love music, I love to sing with him
My favorite memories involve his guitar
Singing old country westerns, yodeling for us
We didn't have to search far for our star
As expressive as he was with his music
And as supportive as he was with my sports
The "I love you"s were a little too seldom
And the hugs were a little too short.
Mom counseled him to try a bit harder
So as he walked by he squeezed my big toe
And I knew all along that he loved me
And I thought "How to Go Dad. How to go!"



