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2004-03-23 @ 11:10 p.m.
dear dad

Dear Dad:

How's it going? How's that heaven thing working out for you? Are they letting you eat all the ice cream you want? I know how much you love ice cream and how that would be your idea of heaven, being able to eat ice cream twenty-four hours a day without having to worry about cholesterol or your waistline. I bet you're real happy about that, huh?

Well, I just wanted to tell you, that I've really been missing you, Dad. I know our last two years were spent 13,000 miles apart, but it was a lot farther than that. Wasn't it? I am so sorry about what happened. We had had such a wonderful relationship up until then.

We were always like two peas in a pod. Both shy. Both nature lovers. Both animal lovers. Both movie lovers. We both suffered from depression. We both loved comedies. Neither of us understood my mother. We both loved to walk. We both loved ice cream. We both liked watching the news. We both loved keeping up on current events. We both loved the ocean. We both loved driving over the Golden Gate Bridge. We both loved hiking in the golden hills of California.

I know you wished I was a boy sometimes. You tried to teach me about cars, like changing the oil and adjusting the belts. And you tried to teach me how to play basketball and football. Remember how you used to take me down to the park to shoot hoops and I would fail miserably? And how you would toss me the football out in the front yard for an hour and I'd drop it like 95% of the time. I tried to be the son you always wanted, but I guess I was kind of a girly girl, huh, Dad?

But you always made me feel like that was ok, too.

And I always remember how much fun we had riding our bikes down in Florida when I was a little kid. And how you used to always sing as we rode along. What was that song, Dad? Oh I remember, "Cruisin' Down the River, on a Sunday Afternoon". You sang that a lot. And you had that other funny song you made up just for me..."**** Bifsky, she likes Whiskey!"

Gee Dad, I actually think that might have been more of your theme song, I mean, the part about liking whiskey, but I kinda liked being called Bifsky. I didn't know what a Bifsky was, but you said it with such affection, that I knew it was a good thing. A really good thing.

You didn't say alot, but you always made me feel loved. My mom said I was afraid of you when I was little, because you used to go away alot as a pilot. But I can barely believe that. You always seemed nice to me.

We also did so many fun things together. Taking bike rides. Feeding the ducks down at the duck pond. Riding the ponies on Sunday after church. Going for long car rides without my mother. Those were the best times.

And even as an adult, those long car rides continued. We took so many wonderful rides up the North coast of California, and through Napa Valley and even down to L.A. where you took me to see the Merv Griffin Show. Remember that, Dad? You pushed me right into Merv Griffin's path when he asked for volunteers from the audience for a segment on his show. I was really embarrassed. But your confidence in me, enabled me to get right up on stage and be the superstar you wanted me to be.

You, Dad, were the only person, who ever thought that. And that was so precious to me.

I can't tell you how much I've missed you the last few years. Having you wrenched away from me by your 3rd wife in 2001 was the worst experiences of my life. You were still here, in the physical sense, but not in the mental. And it was really painful.

And then came word last March, that you had finally actually passed away. And the experience was so muted. I had already mourned you in 2001, and then suddenly I had to mourn you all over again and it was just as painful the second time, if not more so. I guess because this one was truly final, as in no dress rehearsal.

So I planned a really busy day today. I was booked solid. I didn't want to think about you. No sad thoughts about Dad. But unfortunately you just kept creeping in and creeping in and creeping in. I guess it didn't help that I had this photo (see above) on my dresser. I believe you about 12 there. A cute little chubby Irish boy.

But what a life you were to lead. You flew around the world countless times. Visited 7 continents. Ate lots of ice cream. And had a daughter who simply adored you.

Miss ya Dad!

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty