Three years.  Jesus.


Three years ago this morning, my superhero dad took his last breath, going down swinging after fouling off a shit ton of pitches hurled at him by the devil known as cancer.

His loss and the impacts of it are bigger than words and more obscure than any other feeling I felt prior to feeling this one.  Nothing captures it, because some spirits simply exist outside the bounds of any norm or any vocabulary.  

And I suppose that’s why this time every year finds me more reflective than usual, thinking thoughts, playing music, closing my teary eyes tight in the hopes that a scene of my life with dad will play on the insides of my eyelids…

Am I sad?  Sure I am, when I think about what happened and I start missing him and I have trouble conjuring up the sound of his laugh, but for the most part, actively, I’m not.  I will never think of him without a pang of sad, of missing, of longing, of wishing…but the most important part of how amazing he was was how much he loved his life, especially when life was not being particularly kind to him.  No matter what the news, there never was a trip home from the hospital that didn’t include a good laugh, with him always delivering the funny line.  So I try to honor him in how I love every day.  More patient. More in the moment.  Wrapped way less tight.  So today, I’m thinking about things like the sun, this cold can of seltzer water, that the sound of music playing through the UE Boom is fantastic…I’m thinking of family and friends and laughing and not wasting a moment.  He didn’t.  He didn’t get enough moments, if you ask me, and that will always make me sad.  And mad.

So in his honor, I make a choice.  And I choose happy.

Miss and love you, dad.  You’re the best!