One Year

So dad.
How's heaven?
It's been a year since you died. Miss us?
Haha.

I know, I know. Heaven is awesome. You've been busy.
Have you met your dad? Is that how it works?
Did he laugh and give you a big hug when he saw you?
Ome's probably introducing you to everyone, with a big smile on her face.

Are you hanging out with the country-and-western singing set?
Do they have their own corner in heaven? Are Johnny and June leading the choir?

How about famous Bible people?
Do you look like Moses, after all? Haha.
Or Peter? Have you two had a chance to chat?

I don't even know how to ask about God and Jesus.
What's it like being in their presence? I can only imagine...
It must be overwhelming and incredible and amazing and more.

You're happy, yes?
I know you are.
And I know you are completely at peace about the way things turned out.

I'm glad.
I'm so thankful that you are whole and well and wonderful.

Have you been keepin' an eye on us? Do you know what's going on?
You're probably stoked that Drew proposed to Danica. I'm guessing you told anyone who'd listen to you what was going on on Cypress Mountain that day in December. Haha. You were a such a fan of relationships. I wish you'd had a chance to get to know her better; she's an amazing young woman. You'd be very proud of the way your Drew grew up this year. He remembers you as his best friend and there are days when I think he wishes he could have a talk with you.

Max has been hanging out with a great girl; I'm sure you'd love her. (Haha, who didn't you love?)
He's moved into a bigger place and is working towards going to school later this year, so we're prayin' that'll work out. And Clint is running Capitol Media by himself these days. He's a hard working, self-employed, go-getter just like you were. We talk about you often.

Dad, you invested so much time and love into my boys... thankyouthankyouthankyou. If we had our choice, we'd want you to be whole and healthy here on earth. When you got sick, you left a hole in our family that has not been filled. You brought the fun and the heart to our family gatherings. You loved us unconditionally and generously and with all kinds of joy. Thanks for showing us the way. You left behind a legacy of love.

We miss you.

Oh, and me? Well I'm still mooching off you. Living in your cave in the basement. Haha. I've made myself quite at home amongst my mountain of boxes and your pool table and a couple TV's and rooms with no windows. Who would've guessed.

We're going to get together this weekend, with mom, to have dinner at your fav spot, the Spaghetti Factory. Mom'll probably order a bottle of Baby Duck in memory of all the dinners we've had there over the years. We'll pig out on bread. And send our waiter back 6 times for more garlic butter. We'll order our salads with Thousand Island dressing, and some of us will have spicy meat sauce on our pasta. And we'll remember everything that was wonderful about you.

Wish you could be with us.

Love you.
xo