dad-
i sat down to collect my thoughts and honor you with my words. i wanted to pen something beautiful- something creative, with metaphors and rhyming words. i wanted to compare your life to a road in a deep wood and your death to a breeze in a meadow. but… those things are not who you were. you were a man who followed Jesus, who lived in awe of the Gospel. you were someone who rejoiced in forgiveness, who whistled every tune he knew, who played golf, shopped in bulk, told corny jokes, still used a dry cleaner, never missed an oil change, always changed his brita filter, and pretended he wasn’t falling asleep in the middle of the day. you were always reading, enjoying coffee, asking questions, eagerly listening. you were a man who lived for his family. and because of that, you will never be a “were.” you will always be an “is” and an “are” because each of us has been changed by knowing you and will live on to carry everything you are around with them. maybe someday soon this will bring me comfort. that day isn’t today. i don’t have big plans for a happier day tomorrow. i don’t have any promise that the giant hole in my life will some day be filled. i know nothing of this grief or the hold it takes on me from moment to moment so i can’t predict its next move. but what i can do is promise you i will put one foot in front of the other. i will get out of bed and take care of my family. i will smile when i smell coffee. when i think of a really stupid joke, i will say it out loud. i will roll my eyes when i turn on my windshield wipers, remembering how you’d tell me to even at 36 years old. when someone asks something of me, i will give it. i will remind my kids not to have any fun. and i will try to remember to change my brita filter every 4 weeks.
i will miss you every minute until i see you again. and i will spend every minute until then trying to make sure that i do.
i love you dad. thanks for everything.