It was a question at an event,
Evening with Dr Chatterjee,
He was asked by an audience member.
“If you had one more day with your Dad,
What would you do?”.
It was a question I pondered on,
As it applies to me too.
“If I had one more day, with you Daddy
What will I do with you?”.
I will start the day
With your home-made tea;
I remember you making it,
For me, as a fond memory.
I will savour every sip,
And practice making it with you.
We will sit down,
And start with questions,
Of your beginning,
For those I never asked before,
And those that made you,
I knew nothing of.
I will be listening deeply.
Taking notes.
Be it written,
Or recording your voice.
To savour as much of you,
In the present moment,
Of this gift of one more day with you.
Tell me Daddy, from the start,
Your earliest memory,
Of your childhood.
The pleasant and the not so,
Leaving nothing out,
Taking your time,
We have one full day together.
Tell me Daddy, your recall,
Of your beautiful Mummy,
What was the day like,
When you heard she had passed?
Did you know, the day was coming?
Were you prepared
Or was it a shock?
For all I know, is you were a little boy.
How must it have been for you,
To move on without her love?.
Tell me Daddy, your recall,
What was your world like,
Before and after,
The passing of your Mummy.
What changed for you?
I would squeeze your hands,
While we sip the tea,
Give you a hug,
For sharing these tough memories
With me.
We might break for a few,
Just enjoying the moment,
Maybe allowing you,
To ask me a question.
About the moments you've missed,
And what it's been like for me,
The significant moment,
Unknown to me,
Eddie the fruit man,
Was your sign to me,
To save me from the life in Sydney.
There maybe your famous tongue roast,
And McRenett bread for lunch,
Savouring it like it was yesterday,
Recording your recipe,
Followed by another tea.
Tell me Daddy, what was it like,
In your formative years?.
As your half siblings arrived,
I can imagine your kindness,
To welcome them all,
Your generosity,
To care for them all.
I will be listening deeply.
To see how you moved,
From boy to man,
And when habits formed.
The good and the bad.
Your hard work and the pills,
The tea and the snuff,
And especially, your attire!
Inside the home, your white wear,
Outside the home, your shirt and tie.
Through our chats, I'll share how similar we are,
Your hard work instilled my work ethic,
Your inside the home wear,
Is always me, jumping into PJs or shorts.
Not white, lots of colours,
My work attire, mainly black.
And suits just like you.
Your simplicity and generosity,
Your humility and joyfulness,
They are all in me.
We will as dusk approaches,
Find a spot to watch the sunset.
Picnic blanket and your tea,
With some dosa and chutney,
Taking moments to enjoy this scene,
For as night approaches,
The last pieces of the stories for me.
Did you ever love another woman?
Before you met the one you married?
Why did you choose her?
What did you experience
Before and after,
Tell me all, leaving nothing out,
I'm an adult now, I can handle the truth.
What was it like, when you found out
You're going to be a father?
Then lost your first born?
And have to hold that secret, must have been a burden,
Till she was well again.
What was it like,
When you next held your live first born?
And each of us in succession.
How did you know?
To parent and care for us
The way you so gracefully did.
What would you have done?
If you only knew,
About that man,
Who shall not be named,
You had no idea, for we never told you
As the night fades,
And my eyes get sleepy,
I will ask you to sing the song,
You made up for us,
With our nicknames.
For this I will know,
Is a gift I'd cherish,
One more day with you,
You'll be gone again when I wake,
The memories of you,
Never to fade.
Started: 24-July-2025
Finished: 27-July-2025
Published: First time here (edited before publishing)
Linda G Thorpe
P.S
Since then, so much more has happened –and if I had one more day with you, Daddy – I would tell you about the good happenings of the last 12 months – from grief we all bonded on 1-Nov-2025. Since then, re-unions have been in abundance. Picking up where we all left off – you will be so proud Daddy of what your children have been up to, in all the years you’ve been gone.
This poem came about because one courageous lady who lost her father, used the Q&A session with Dr Chatterjee, at the event in Brisbane in 2025. So grateful to have heard the question, and not one I had spent time thinking about. It helped me ponder what I would do with my father who left us at the young age of 53, and when I was finishing off my teen years. Should I be granted this wish in the future – to have just one more day from sunrise to sunset and into the night as I drift off, with my father, what I would do. For he was the first man I loved and who taught me – the good (master my craft) and what can be bad (addictions, what not to do from a health and living point of view).
