Dear Dad

Here are the things I remember about you:

• The time you surprised me by ordering donuts from Aunt Pat's bakery when we all were together for Alvin's funeral.
• The time you surprised me at Hickory Park when I was there with the student council in high school. You sent a sundae to my table and I had no idea what was going on. Then I sat with you and had lunch. It was an awesome surprise. 
• When you first taught me to drive a stick-shift. And how you looked sitting in the passenger seat!!!
• When you made me dig the 2 ft. deep trench that was 20 feet long through clay and rocks. And how much it sucked but felt so accomplishing.
• Riding your motorcycle on really beautiful summer days.  And taking off our helmets when Mom was out of sight.
• Roasting marshmallows with you and mom out back. 
• Cleaning the summer house for my first "boy/girl" party in 7th grade. 
• How proud you were of me when I was crowned Homecoming Queen.
• How much you loved Eric and the fact that I had found a man so similar to you. 
• You always blamed my friends for the garage door never being shut. Then years later we finally found out that it was due to a faulty wheel. 
• When it was really cold outside and you'd call me to throw a glass of hot water into the air. 
• When we'd talk about teaching. 
• Coming home on Sunday nights from working at the mall to the smell of something being grilled. It was always REALLY good!
• The face you'd make when you got excited. 
• The one and only time I saw you drink too much and you ended up sitting on the living room floor propped up against the couch telling jokes for an hour with Eric. 
• The first time you told me you loved me and were proud of me after I left for Drake.
• How you never gave up on me when I didn't do well in college. 
• When you tricked me into thinking the hutch you were making Eric and I for our wedding was really for some friends in Minnesota.
• How you laughed and laughed at the fact that Eric and I bought a snowblower in our last conversation ever.
• How handsome you looked at my wedding. And how it felt to be dancing with my Dad. 

Here are the things I'd like to forget:

• The car in front of us at the moment I got the news was from Nebraska. And it was dark green. 
• It was a beautiful day in the beginning of February and the sun was just beginning to set. 
• The sight of you laying on the emergency room table with a tube still in your throat.
• The feeling of floating and not having the ability to think. 
• How to cry. I'd love to forget how to cry because I'm so tired of doing it. 
• What Mom said to you in the emergency room and how incredibly sad she looked.
• All the times I was a horrible daughter. 
• The exact parking spot we were in when I called Allan. 
• The confusion I felt when you wouldn't wake up. 
• The moment Dave took me into his arms when we first walked into the house from the hospital. 
• How calm the nurse was when she told me to pull over. And the sound of my voice thereafter.
• When Allan's voice finally cracked after I told him. 
• When I woke up crying on Saturday morning and couldn't really remember sleeping.
• Every day after February 6th. Then I could just live in February 5th. And you'd still be alive. 

I miss you dad.