It's crazy to think it's been 18 years since he teased me, 18 years since we talked sports, 18 years since he's asked if I've changed the oil in my car lately, 18 years since I've heard him sing.
Today we're packing up my mom's apartment; tomorrow she moves to a retirement center. While her new home will be a huge blessing for her (and for those of us who worry about her), this whole moving process has been difficult. Going through her current apartment has unleashed a flood of memories. Today, on the 18th anniversary of Daddy's death, seeing the photos and letters and vacation souvenirs will be difficult, but there's some comfort, too. Even though all those mementos make me sad, I'm thankful to unearth these artifacts of a life well lived.
My 2008 tribute to Daddy is here.