A LETTER TO MY DAD

Dearest Dad,

Well, it was 11 years ago today you left me. Where the hell has the time gone?

For obvious reasons, you've been on my mind this month. So, out of the blue, I mentioned our 11th anniversary at work yesterday. Then, when I got home tonight I realized nothing tells someone you love them more than writing them a letter; so here you have it.

As you know, the kids are doing great. I wish you could chat with them, laugh with them, one more time. You’d be so very proud. I know I talked to you often when Sweetie was out West, and though she's still healing, I am pleased to report she's finally found her stride. Both the boys are working hard and finding great individual success, which I know won't even remotely surprise you. I will admit that as parents, it seems a tad surreal to be simply standing at the sidelines and watching. Then again, as empty-nesters, more good news as we too have finally found our way.

I'm enclosing some updated photos of the crew. The one of Sweetie and Goob was taken last week when we met for lunch, the one of Jukebox & his Dad was taken when we traveled with friends to Mexico for my last birthday. I'd attach an updated picture of me, but just like Mom, I always seen to be behind the lens of a camera.

Goob & Sweetie                                                   Hubby with Jukebox.
TAKEN: APRIL & JUNE 2016

Finally, not looking to avoid the subject, I've nothing to report on my siblings. As you predicted when we did your will, everything unfurled exactly as you expected. That said, just as I use to worry about that 911 call you begged me never to make, I've reconciled myself to the fact that the right thing's happened in both scenarios. I will admit, I find it a tad surreal. You know, how we both ultimately kept our dignity. Yours in your choice of how you wanted to die, and mine in life. You'd be proud of how we've risen above it all. We've just kept our course... and let all the other stuff go. 

Well, I guess I should run. We miss you Dad. We miss you a lot... All five of us.

Every. Single. Day.

Love always,

Rhondi