Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

20 years.

The scale has definitively tipped, and you've now been gone more of my life than you were here. 

I know you haven't really gone anywhere. I see and feel you all the time. In practical jokes. In music. Or when Brett asks me where you live now that you're gone, and I can tell her that you are still with us any moment we think of you.

Your laugh. I can still hear it. And feel it. And the moment I picture it, it's like you're right here with me. I know I'm not the only one. 

I still tell your stories. They're a hit with everyone, especially the kids. 

I often think about how much your character is woven into the fabric of the woman that I have become. I see people, and laugh with them, and deeply connect. I'm the last one to leave a party too, Dad. 

I know that the life I've created for myself, and for my family, and for my community, is one that you would be proud of. I know that you've been guiding me all along. 

Your spirit lives on Dad. Every single day.

I love you. 

*And because I know they have Spotify in heaven, here's some music for you.