Stephen James Macleod

I’ll See You Again Daddy

When I was little, you’d lift me onto your shoulders like I belonged above the world.

Barefoot on your shoulders, my hands held safely in yours, and I’d squeal with fearless joy,bungee-jumping through your legs like gravity was just a game

you promised I’d always win.

When my legs were too tired to carry me, yours carried us both, through shops, through streets, through ordinary days you turned into adventures.

We stayed up late together, watching the hours slip quietly by, like night didn’t matter as long as we were side by side.

I remember the food we shared your love for Top Deck chocolate, Amjoya, liquorice, and Tofalux.

I remember making you meals and hearing that specific, satisfied sound you’d make while you ate...a quiet little hum of approval that said more than words ever could.

You loved food.

Loved experimenting.

Mixing flavors, trying something new just to see.

I do that now too.

A piece of you lives in every kitchen adventure.

You showed me a world I couldn’t have imagined on my own.

Freedom.

Curiosity.

Living like tomorrow was never promised

Long bike rides together, me holding onto you like a safety net, my long blonde hair dancing wildly beneath my helmet, wind rushing past,

feeling fearless, weightless, free.

I loved that I got to feel that with you daddy.

We’d sit pavement-side sometimes, eating the hugest, most delectable sandwiches for just five bucks each, like we’d discovered treasure no one else knew about.

And the museum days, your dramatic performances, acting like every old bicycle and fire truck was alive, And you were the character for each just to make me laugh.

Your private comedy show echoing through the quiet grounds

And now your ashes stand beside my bed, your photograph watching over me.

You’re still the last thing I see at night.

Still the first love I wake up to.

I love you with the same fierce, innocent devotion I had when I was small.

I never measured you by your mistakes, your downfalls, or the roads you wish you hadn’t taken.

You were my dad.

That was enough.

That was everything.

You didn’t really have a favorite color.

Being colorblind made the world different for you, so you didn’t speak of colors much but you definitely experimented with them.

But music, music you felt deeply.

Just like I do.

Everything I am has roots in you.

Your mind always racing with ideas.

Endless business plans.

Dreams bigger than the room.

Your hands ~ your heart at work.

Always building, fixing, creating, giving.

Your values anchored in family.

You loved fiercely.

Quietly.

Completely.

You would do anything for the people you loved.

And at the end… it was me.

“I’m here, Dad.

I love you.

Please don’t go.”

Maybe you whispered those same words in your heart on the Sundays when I had to go back home.

You lived loudly, recklessly, beautifully free, but always with love at the center.

Love for your family.

Love for your people.

Love that didn’t need big speeches, because it lived in what you did, in how you showed up, in how you held us close.

I know the quiet parts too ,

the loneliness after Mom left and took me with.

The spaces no one could fill.

You never remarried.

Some loves only happen once.

Your Scottish accent wrapped wisdom in warmth.

You shared knowledge freely, never wanting to keep light to yourself.

Your mom was your world.

When she left, you unraveled.

I understand that kind of grief now.

I’m trying not to unravel too.

But life will never sound the same without your voice in it.

You called me “Sweetheart.”

And when I had to leave, you’d breathe in the scent of my hair to remember me.

I didn’t understand then.

I do now.

So when you left,

I kept pieces of your hair.

I keep your pillow close.

I keep you in everything.

I never say goodbye.

Only ...

I’ll see you later.

I’ll see you again.

I hope you’re at peace now.

Wrapped in joy.

With your mom.

With John.

With Pops.... your Mac.

I hope the ache you carried has softened into light.

My love for you is untouched by time, unmeasured by words, unmatched in this.