dear daddy...

5 years. some days it seems like yesterday, some days it feels like forever.

i wish i had been able to say goodbye to you. i know we talked every day, but i always thought there would be one more. that day... i have a lot of guilt associated with it. for telling you about mother. for burdening you with her confusion. for quite possibly giving you the reason to let go. i'm so sorry for that being your last memory of her.

i miss you every day. those last few months with you meant so much to me, being able to drive to erie and spend the day and talk. i hated that we had to sell the house and move mother into sarah reed, but she was very well taken care of. she asked about you a lot... i think thats one thing she always remembered. penny and i were with her when she passed, and we told her that you were waiting for her. she wasn't in pain... she finally seemed like herself again. she didn't talk, but i think she knew we were there.

some days its really hard not having you and mother here. to be honest, i still have your number in my phone. and while i know the number has been disconnected, i just can't erase it. i miss talking to you and asking you what you had for lunch. the past few weeks ive had a bad cold that i just can't shake... all i really want to do is go back home and lie on the couch with the "sick" blanket and watch days of our lives with you while mother keeps making me tea and toast. i miss both of you a lot.

there are certain memories that stand out... they're fuzzy, but they're still there. i remember the one time in the middle of the night that i was sick... maybe i was 4 or 5, and my bed was ruined. you got me out of bed and cleaned me off in the tub. i remember standing under the water and being so weak i could barely stand. i remember the time i was roller skating on our gravel road and fell and cut my leg. you helped me into the house to clean off my leg and i fainted. that was only one of the many times ;) and i remember when you walked into the kitchen with your thumb bleeding, after you cut part of it off with the rototiller. for some reason, i always thought it was composter, until i got a composter and realized that didnt make sense. you taught me how to ride a bike and how to play baseball. you also taught me how to crochet (even tho i really prefer knitting now). remember that time you "walked off the roof"?? i was the only one home and didn't hear you calling for awhile. you were on some pretty goofy painkillers after that. i remember you used to get so mad when i mowed crazy patterns into the yard.

some days i worry that at some point, i'm going to start forgetting things about you.

there was a lot of loss the past few years, but there was a silver lining after all of our sadness. 3 years ago, ian and i had a beautiful baby girl. we named her london marie. she has sanford eyes, curly red hair, and she's left handed. daddy, she reminds me so much of you... especially when she smiles. she is very spirited, and really sweet. her favorite song right now is mary had a little lamb. you would've loved her so much.

ian is a wonderful father and husband. i hold him to a very high standard :) he takes great care of us and i can just see how much he loves us in his day to day actions. he helped to take really good care of mother (and aunt lois too), and was always supportive. i'm really lucky to have him.

we moved into a new house a few months ago... its a ranch house on 1.3 acres of wooded land. you would love it! i still have all of your old house plan books from the 60s, which we reference often. i think you would be really proud of both us for the home that we're building together. the house came with 2 outdoor cats (we named them chairman meow & mr kittens), and a family of deer. it reminds me of grandmas "farm" and when we used to go camping.

today, i think you were looking down on me. going into work, someone was holding the door for a group of people and someone said "you're a gentlemen and a scholar". i had a meeting over lunch and the food served at the photo studio was prime rib. oh, you and your story of eating 3 prime ribs and 2 plates of fried smelt :)

i know you wanted to outlive grandpa, but only made it to 80. i have to say, you still had a pretty awesome life. you were a loving husband, father and son. and you're missed every single day. i love you daddy, i hope you and mommy are finally at peace.

love always, aimee

ps. they got off the island.