It’s been two years since you left us. In some ways, it seems like just yesterday; but then again it seems like it’s been ages. You’ve missed so much… I got married to an amazing man, I know you two would’ve gotten along great. I wish you would’ve been there to walk me down the aisle; but instead I carried a picture of you.
I also had another baby; I found out about him right after you passed. It kills me that I was never able to tell you in person that you were going to have a second grandbaby. I still remember the endless love you had for Emilio and I have no doubt you would’ve had the same love for Conor. We are in the process of trying for another one, but so far no luck. (So if you could put in a word with the “Big Man” upstairs that would be great).
I know it’s not your fault that you left, but I can’t help but be angry. You left way too early. This little girl still needs help from her daddy. I need your words of wisdom and advice. I still don’t know how to drive a standard car, even though you tried to teach me countless times in your little truck. I still have no idea how to use a weed whacker. However, there are so many things that you were able to teach me. Thanks to you I am a self-sufficient woman that knowns how to mow the grass, change an air filter in my car and use various power tools. I have your “never give up” attitude and accomplish what I set my mind to. For that I thank you.
I still find myself laughing at stupid situations that were the source of our inside jokes. I still regularly quote Austin Powers and Chris Farley movies. I make dumb puns and hope that you hear them and are laughing. Even now, I find myself starting to text you something funny, but then remember that you aren’t here anymore.
Emilio asks about you a lot. He can’t figure out why you aren’t here and he’s convinced that you live on the moon. Maybe Heaven is on the moon, I don’t know. I hope that I will see you again one day. I used to be so sure of everything, but since you passed, I feel like I’m not sure of anything anymore. At 25 I had to pick your final resting place, something that I took very seriously, yet hoped that I wouldn’t have to do. So, I hope you like your spot and that you have good neighbors (hahaha!)
Funny story…on the way to the cemetery that final day to pick out your spot, I backed my truck into Tyler’s car, totally destroying the front fender. All I could do was stand in the middle of the street, laughing and crying like a crazy person. He was soooo mad at the time, but we can laugh about it now. I still have regrets that I wasn’t there with you that final weekend. It took me by surprise and I didn’t know you were going to leave so soon. I thought I had more time. I think that’s everyone’s downfall, we all think we have more TIME. So, I hope you can forgive me.
I could write all day but at the same time I guess I have nothing else to say. I wish you were here. I feel like that pretty much sums up this letter. You left too soon, and it fucking sucks. I love you and Happy Father’s Day.