My 23 Year Old Dad

* A re-post from last year, with an even greater appreciation of life after death life and the fact that he is still extremely interested in what goes on here on this tiny blue marble.
Carry on,
xox

My dad.
The enigma.

He passed in his late sixties from cancer in 2005.
Too young.

For most of my adult life we maintained an uneasy truce, where we agreed to disagree on pretty much everything.

He got a kick out of me and my sister when we were small, singing our camp songs and wearing our hair in “piggy tails.”

I loved to make him laugh.

He expected good grades, clean rooms, and no sass.
Oh well, two out of three.

His blood runs through my veins, so I know that’s where I got my work ethic, ability to fix stuff, love of science fiction, his colossal sweet tooth, temper, love of cars and driving, his goofiness, skinny legs, boney feet, blue eyes, control issues, and lack of respect for authority, and tolerance for stupid people.

I actually feel him more and have a better relationship with him now that he’s on the other side. It’s just the two of us, so it’s so much less complicated.
From that perspective, he really “gets” me, which in turn helps me to understand him that much better.

You can’t help but love people who love you, and love never dies.

Happy Father’s Day Dad!

Love you.

Xox