Dear Dad.

It's been exactly two years to the day since you left this place. Two years that seem like an eternity. Not a day goes by when I don't think about you or wish I could get to talk to you again. Some days are better than others, but for the most part, I just miss you. I think about the details of you...your heavy eye lids that sunk over your eyes, your discolored front tooth, the cracks in your hands from all the cars you worked on, and the way your wedding ring fit a little too tight.  I try and remember the way you would stand in the drive way and watch as I drove back to school from visiting home. Sometimes when I go back, I can imagine you sitting in the chair at the bottom of the stairs and jumping up when I opened the door to greet me. I can still hear you saying how good my hair looked as I stood in the bathroom taking way too much time getting ready. Any time I hear a sports announcer my thoughts quickly turn to you and all the baseball and hockey games you would watch or listen to. When I sit at the kitchen table, I wish you were sitting at the other end with your hands folded listening to whatever I had to say. 

I often wonder why you thought leaving would be better for all of us, because in reality it was the worst thing that could have ever happened. I'll never understand the timing of it all. It seemed like that year was one you would have loved.

I met Dylan almost 3 months after... He is the best thing that could have happened to me. I know the Lord was giving me a man just like you to take care of me. You would really like him. He is so full of wisdom and life. He is great at anything he does and he always wants to do his best.  He has provided for me in so many ways and continues to amaze me with his maturity. He reminds me of you in so many ways. He is honest, hardworking, and tenderhearted. The wedding was more than I could have asked for. The whole family helped to make it the best day--including Carolyn and Vaughn. I wish you could have been next to me that day, walking me down the aisle. I know it was hard for mom---for all of us. You should have been there.

Graduation was the same weekend. 5 long years slowly came to an end. I could almost hear you saying how proud you were of me as I walked across the stage. I got a job at one of the best Hospitals in Kansas City. It's a great place for me. I work nights, which fits me perfectly since you knew how much I love sleeping in late and staying up til the morning hours. Sometimes I am reminded of you when a patient has your characteristics or demeanor. I see a lot of men that are around your age and I wish I was opening the door to you.

The poor old Pontiac had it's final days last January. Kevin, of course, helped me find a great car. I can remember you telling me how much you loved Equinox's, and of course Chevy. It was bittersweet knowing how much you poured into that Grand Am. I think the only reason it lasted so long was because of how much work you did on it. I remember the little tips you gave me like slowing down before the turn, making sure to change the oil regularly, checking the tire pressure before a long trip, keeping an eye on the temperature, and not revving the engine over 3 rpm....I only wish Dylan could have looked under a car hood with you---he would've learned so much. 

I miss you Dad. I miss everything about you. I wish we could've helped you, or done something different. I wish we would've known how much you were hurting. I wish I would've came in on your birthday, or called you that day to talk. Our family is just not the same without you---and it hurts because it never will be. We are struggling so much and just want you back. I want you to know you were wrong. Wrong for believing that you weren't enough. Wrong for believing that you let us down. Wrong for thinking that we deserved better. Wrong for believing we would be better off without you. 

There will never be a man like you. You were the most selfless, kind, sacrificing, hardworking man that I have ever or will ever know. I will forever talk about you and keep your life alive because I want you and those around me to know... that you were wrong. 

Love, 

Trisha