It’s been 33 years since Dad died. I realized in the car today at some point just how small a part he had in my life. I’ve lived almost three times as long without him as I did with him. And yet he is such a big part of me. I wish I could have known him better. I’d love to meet him in a coffee shop and talk about what he wanted from life and what he misses most about it. For now, I have his drawings hanging over my bed, a ring, and some faded memories left to linger. Dad, wherever you’ve gone or not gone, I love you. As little time as we had together, you remain big inside me. I still use the alarm clock you gave me in sixth grade. I can’t decide if it’s sad or touching that it’s one of my most treasured possessions. Whatever the case, I hope this day finds you at peace, knowing you are remembered, and loved. And thanks for the alarm clock. It still works great.
Year in Photos 