Another year’s Father’s Day has come, and we are missing you once more. Some days are harder than others, and as sweet as it is to be able to celebrate the holiday, we are again painfully reminded of your absence and of how much we miss you. It is always the church’s reminder to us that we will be reunited once more in heaven, but that does nothing for the pain here, for the missing now.
The time for which I knew you was much too short. But of the man I did come to know, I know you cared for Jessica with every bit of your gruff, loving heart. Remember what you said, the first time we met? I do. It wasn’t even to me, it was to Jessica. “Who the hell is this?” I was shocked. Being a father now myself, I think I understand. I’ll probably try to scare away any would-be boyfriends when Namine is older, too.
But as I came to be closer to your daughter, I also came to be closer to your entire family. I remember the many conversations we would have, spanning from sports and painting and religion and politics and everywhere in between. We sometimes agreed, sometimes not. We argued, we laughed, we worked outside together, we ate meals together. We were a family. And as time always is, time was all too short; you were taken away from us much too soon.
How I wish you could see your granddaughter Namine. I see a bit of you in her. She shares your crude sense of humor. She shares your love of beans and definitely your love of hot dogs. The two of you would get along so well. On Sunday, we will celebrate your Father’s Day by visiting your grave. We’ll bring flowers, as we did last year, and tell you once again how much we love and miss you.
Whether you can see us or not, whether you are looking down on us now or not, know that you are missed. Missed, and loved. We look forward to seeing you again. We will all sit down at God’s table and eat hot dogs together. Until then, we are
Your loving family,
Paul, Jessica, and Namine