my dear father
june 3, 1946 to may 3, 1996
your passing has made me both stronger and weaker. when you first left, i had to learn new ways of existing in this world. it was clear to me that i would always miss you. that you would never walk me down the isle. that you would never meet my children. in the early days, i picked up the phone to call you a couple of times–only to realize you wouldn’t answer. now, i know other methods of communication.
as you watch down on us today, I want to tell you that your grandchildren know you. they know you’re happy. they know you were sick. they know you got your wings. they know your favorite song and all about your “gym bag”. they know about the cracker game we used to play, and that you used to say “ruff” instead of “roof”. they know that your left arm used to twitch and that you had a burn on your other arm. they know you were a lawyer and then a cab driver. they think it’s cooler that you drove a cab.
today we mourn your death, but every day we celebrate your life. did you see the spaceship to heaven that jt drew at school? he said when he is older he is going to build it so he can come see you anytime he wants. i tell your grandchildren all of your jokes. i give them all your advice. i show them all your love. you are alive in this home…