In most children’s baby books, the blank next to “Favorite Song” is filled in with sweet lullabies like “Mary Had A Little Lamb,” “Twinkle, Twinkle,” or if you’re of the unlucky modern guard, “Baby Shark.”

But written in my Mama’s exquisite cursive like a signed declaration more than a cute annotation, mine reads “Bill Withers – ‘Lovely Day’.”

Obviously, I couldn’t say whether my Daddy was responsible for that, but without a doubt, the man who loved to make me smile took full advantage of it.

“Then I look at you and the world’s alright with me

Just one look at you and I know it’s gonna be a lovely day”

Seconds into the very first track on Bill Withers’ “Menagerie,” I knew I was on borrowed time. He’d pull me away from chores, homework, absolutely nothing at all to sing those words directly to me. Bill’s voice sat comfortably within his range, and he sang “Lovely Day” with the same ease he kept me in his grasp. I’d slip one hand away, and like one of the famed Nicholas Brothers, he’d spin to catch my other one. Between his charming insistence and my lifelong favorite tune, it didn’t take long before I gave in, giggling and dancing along with him.

The thing that I’ll never forget about those moments though, is knowing that when he sang “Lovely Day” to me—his firstborn daughter, “the apple of his eye,” he’d say—he meant every single word.

Happy birthday, Daddy. Thank you for countless lovely days.

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