I woke up at 2 in the morning with a splitting headache. I took a bunch of Advil and got back to sleep but this morning I woke up with the same headache. More Advil and hopefully some relief soon.
But I also woke up with a bit of a heartache. My dad died 30 years ago today. It just doesn’t seem like it was so long ago. It’s odd to think that I’ve had more time without my dad than with my dad. That’s just not fair. I remember when he died, he was 57, and I kept hearing people say he was way too young. At the ripe old age of 25 I thought 57 wasn’t all that young. Now that I’m 55 it sure is young. Funny how things change.
I think what I really regret is that my dad left before we really got to be friends. At 25 you think you know everything and that you don’t need a parent. But I think it was in my 40s that I really realized how much I’d love to sit down and listen to my dad’s stories.
I got a lot of my sense of humor and fun from my dad, and my eyes that squint when I smile, and my hearty laugh. I miss him every day. Thanks for it all Dad.