“Tears are the silent language of grief.” ~ Voltaire

Hi Dad, today is the two-year “anniversary” of the day you died. I’ve been thinking about this date for some time now. When I think about you, especially when something happens, and say to myself”I need to call dad, ” and then realize that it’s just an automatic trigger, it makes me sad. There is still so much I’d love to talk to you about, and as much as our conversations were crazy by any standards, I still miss them. Today a woman told me she was getting a haircut, and honest to god I told her “you should get them all cut,” which was something you used to say.

You made me laugh more than you made me sad. I felt we helped each other to survive after mom died. You loved your kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and of course, I was and always will be the favorite child.

I honestly don’t know how you would have coped with the isolation of the pandemic, somehow I’d like to think you would be the mayor of Brightview and thrived, but it was not meant to be.

I do regret that due to the pandemic we could not have your epic wake ( with the kneeler voice-activated saying thank you for coming in your voice when they knelt at your casket) and the celebration afterward. Wherever you are, and we can’t be sure, I hope you are peaceful and happy, maybe “selling poppies” for the VFW of heaven, or cards with mom and your family and friends. I hope it is a good day for you and that you make others laugh as much as you did all the years I knew you.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in
the hollow of His hand.