My Father's Whisle

Something I remember and truly never want to forget is my Daddy’s whistle!

He was always whistling, always. From the time I can remember even up to shortly before he passed away he was always whistling.

As a little girl I would know when he was coming for lunch because I’d hear his whistle. I always knew he was close when I heard his whistle. I would run down the long hall knowing he would soon be coming up those stairs.

One day I heard his whistle while play in my room and down the hall I went running to the stairway to wait for him to appear. I did not hear him coming up the stairs but I could still faintly hear his whistle. So I ran back to the kitchen to be sure. There I could still hear it, loud and clear.

I looked outside for him through the windows in the kitchen and my room; no where was he to be seen BUT that was his whistle and so loud. Where WAS he? Was he playing a game with me?

I found my mother, explained and asked her where was Daddy, I hear his whistle. She too heard it and we both looked for him as she told me it was too early for him to come home for lunch and that he was probably just working outside near by.

This went on all day and then the next day too until we finally realized what we were hearing was a mocking bird. The bird had heard my Daddy’s whistle so much it learned to mock his exact little tune. I don’t remember how old I was but I know that whistle and really do miss hearing it today.