Since you suddenly passed away that awful Friday night in 2004, not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.  I miss your “Hi Buttercup” greetings, the way you drowned your coffee in cream and sugar, and seeing your wallet and keys on the ledge in the kitchen.  I miss your metal workbox, the sound of your truck pulling in the driveway, and watching a ball game in the living room on a Sunday afternoon.  I miss our talks on the way home from a track meet at Westchester, Christmas mornings videoing each and every present, our Mayfair diner nights with Carolyn, and walking along the beach in Wildwood with Lauren and Katelyn.

Life events have come and gone when I longed for your advice, a smile to say “way to go,” and a shoulder to cry.  I’m sad for all the times we’ve missed out on together and all the things I wanted you to experience with me.  I’ve grown up a lot Dad.  I made my way to morning TV, just like you said I should.  I have hosted baseball games, traveled the country, and met people who have changed my life. I’ve tried to give back in ways you showed me, like all the time you spent volunteering at St. Chris and with Lower South softball.  I try to take lots of pictures Dad too, just the way you would have wanted it. I’ve made mistakes since you left and probably life decisions which would have turned out differently had you been here.  But so many times I have felt your presence.  You are a part of me Dad.  And I pray you are proud of the woman I have become.   

There’s so many things I wish I could have said to you.  So many times I wish I could have gone back and thanked you and hugged you and just said, “Dad, you’re doing a good job.” But in my youth, arrogance, and hurried life, I so often overlooked the tremendous blessing of you in my day. 

So wherever you are, I hope you know how much you are forever in my heart.  Thank you for showing me how to live with integrity, passion, and love. Here’s to long summer nights, a day trip at the shore, and a Phillies game with fireworks.  Love you Daddy.