Twelve years ago this week we unexpectedly lost my Dad. If you’ve lost someone you love, I don’t have to tell you that these kinds of anniversaries come with emotions. Sometimes you just so badly want them here physically - to see a kid walk across a graduation stage, to hear their voice, to give a hug.
My Dad shows up in the simple pleasures – front porches, long walks, and cold beers. He loved freshly-mowed lawns, growing flowers, family picnics, buckets of chicken, pushing kids on swings, and being there to watch whatever sport was being played by a grandkid – toting his lawn chair and cooler.
Losing people is hard - finding them in small ways years after they’ve been gone is one of life’s best consolation prizes.
My Dad is in my brother’s neighborliness and the detailed attention he gives his yard. He’s in the way my stepmom shows up without fail to deliver her famous birthday ice cream pies. He’s in the way my sister’s eyes light up with her baby daughter, who may have gotten some of Dad's orneriness in the very best way. He’s in my Mom’s I remember when stories of the 70’s. He’s in all of the grandkids and the way they lovingly tease each other. He’s in my son’s lanky limbs and my daughter’s sweet nature, and he’s in me – his dimples and dark hair and big smiles.
Whenever I start to overcomplicate life, I think of my Dad and have an appreciation for enjoying life AS IS.
Taking the best of someone you’ve lost and living out their unique goodness is one of the best ways I know to show the world how much you still love them. And, oh, how we still love him.
Cheers to those we’ve loved, lost, and still keep finding.
