I drove up there today, every time I drive up there I get emotional. Just knowing he won't be there...passing the exit for the hospital, then just watching him go right in front of me. That image just haunts me, everyday. Every time I think of a good memory...it end in his last breath. I'm glad I was there for him...but there's something to be said about seeing him as you want to remember him.
Need less to say I miss him alot. I miss him just showing up at my door with a bag full of dollar store goodies for the monkeys. Sitting on the deck pulling in whatever sea air he could smell. Taking a ride down to the piers to see what was "biting". I miss his smell. Cigarettes and paint and coffee. I miss his mess. He always made a mess. The kitchen at my parents was never clean. Whatever meal he came up with to snack on was still on the stove in the pan. Of course alot of these memories were even a year before he passed. I don't so much remember him sick and weak...that was not him. I always loved his dirty paint and dirt covered hands. Ape like in size and in texture (i imagine). Tough...he could reach right into the oven and take out a pan.
Anyway. Happy Easter Dad. I made a batch of deviled eggs for you!
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