Dad, how has it been a year already?
I still can’t believe you’re not here with us anymore. This year has seemingly flown by and been at a stand-still simultaneously.
I’ve said it countless times before, but saying I miss you is the ultimate understatement. You’re more than missed.
It seems like just yesterday that we were planning post-bone-marrow-transplant-quarantine adventures and guessing how long it would take for the snow pile to melt at the beach house (and how much sand it would leave behind…).
And, selfishly, I’m so sad that I won’t have those new adventures with you; that I won’t be able to hear you humor me while I freak out about something trivial (and then tease me, of course); that we won’t have those early mornings at the beach where we’d sit out on the patio, while everyone else was still asleep, just sipping coffee, people watching and listening to the waves; that we won’t hear another one of your [long] stories or ever be “embarrassed” by you again (or witness the sheer JOY you got from trying to embarrass me and Greg…); or that we can’t get wrapped up in one of your big ol’ bear hugs.
But I know you’re still around…everywhere, really. Even if it’s not in the way we all wish. I’m so grateful for you, and for all of the amazing memories that I’ll be able to carry with me forever.
I know than I am more fortunate than most to have had you as my dad — and even luckier to be able to say that you were my friend.
Now, I’m sure you’re causing a ruckus up in Heaven… between you and Ted, God has his hands full. I miss you, Dad. I love you.