4 Years

I don’t think this day will ever be easy. It’s gotten a little easier to handle over the past four years, but thinking about the day we lost my dad still puts a pit in my stomach and brings tears to my eyes. I’ve had to remind myself that if he hadn’t been so great, we wouldn’t miss him this much. He left a pretty big hole in our world when he left. Insert joke about his size here—he would’ve made it himself. He was a big guy with an even bigger heart.

Dad always put others first. He would drop everything to help his family, co-workers, or neighbors without a second thought. His personality was unforgettable quirky, funny, and a lovable goof. He gave the best hugs, and somehow just a call or a few words from him could make anything feel better. He was the one I turned to for everything: when I was sad, when I needed advice about my car, when something funny happened at work, when I wanted to share something the kids did, he was that person in my life.

I can’t believe it’s been four years without him. It somehow feels like forever and also like no time at all. It breaks my heart that he’s missing the boys graduating. He would have been so incredibly proud of them and all they’ve accomplished.

Every year on this day, I make the drive back to Norfolk by myself, usually with some Johnny Cash and old rock songs playing. I always take the Seward way. The same road I was on when I got the call from the ER and had to make the decision to stop care. I don’t know if it’s the healthiest coping mechanism, but it’s what I need. I have my cry on the drive, and then I let the rest of the day be about celebrating his life.

This year, Steph and I went to Orchard to decorate Dad’s grave at Grimpton. Oddly enough, there was a service happening there. I don't think we have ever seen anyone else out there. We could just hear Dad saying, “Looks like there’s a party going on today!” The weather was beautiful, and we took our time cleaning up and adding new decorations.

On the way home, Steph had the idea to stop at Grove Lake, a place full of childhood memories—camping, fishing, just being kids. And of course, we had to do the one thing Grove Lake is famous for: we climbed Chalk Mountain. I swear that hill gets steeper every year… though maybe it’s just us getting older. We laughed and walked around, remembering all the crazy, good times we had.

We miss you every day, Dad. I know you’re not here in person, but I truly believe you’re still proud of all of us. Always.