I Made You a Cake Today

I made you a cake today

Even though you're not here

I've spent too many years grieving

Instead of celebrating your life

While it's true

You were taken

Far too soon

That doesn't mean

I can't remember

All the good times we shared

The birthdays

That Christmas when you

Got me my first bike

Those many patient hours

You spent teaching me

To speak and read

And write and do sums

And generally behave

Like a civilised human being should

Just because you couldn't

Finish raising me

Doesn't mean you

Weren't a good father

So I made you a cake today

To celebrate all of that

Like I have every single year

Since I was perhaps seven

Or eight years old

I sing happy birthday

To your ghost in the corner

I know you'll hear it

From where you are

And I know

You will be remembering

What I'm remembering

All those cakes I made you

And the banana bread, too

Those times when I was small

Still learning how to bake

Messily frosted birthday cakes

With the words

Happy Birthday Daddy

In precarious

Uneven and dripping

Frosting letters

But to you it was a masterpiece

You acted as if

It was made by a master chef

In a fancy restaurant

For someone rich

You were always proud

Never belittling

And I hope you're still proud

This cake isn't quite as messy as

The one I made twenty years ago

It probably tastes a lot better, too

I wish you were here

To have a slice with me

But even though you're not

I will still sing happy birthday

With the same spirit as the child

Who wrote those messy, frosting words:

Happy Birthday Daddy