Dad,

Today is your birthday. You would be 70 years old. The last time we spoke, you were 58 and I was 17. It’s hard to believe that almost twelve years have passed since we spent time together. There are so many things that I have to try really hard to remember about you and some things I can remember like I just saw you yesterday.

Like your hands. I will never forget your hands. They were big hands. You used them to build things and to fix things. They were stained and cracked. There was an indentation in one of your fingernails that I would run my finger across when I stood next to you at church. I believe the indentation was caused by a machine at your plant. I remember when you stood under the hood of my car with me and showed me how to check my oil and washer fluid. I remember when you came into my room after my first true love broke up with me. You sat with me on my bed and rubbed my back. I remember how it felt to hug you. You were a big man and it felt so comforting to be in your arms.

Most of all, I remember how wonderful you were with children. You were an outgoing man. You laughed and your laugh was infectious. You had a good heart, a huge heart. Children just LOVED you. They were not afraid of you. You were goofy and made them laugh. You got down on the floor and played with them. I remember being young and sitting out in the yard and you would “pretend” like you found coins in the grass. I knew you put them there but at the same time, it was fun to try to “find” them. We were also so determined to find four leaf clovers.

You sat with me and Dan on the porch, one on each side of you on the glider, rocking us and singing “found a peanut” and “she’ll be coming ’round the mountain” to us.

It might be hard to believe but I soaked those moments in and promised myself to never forget how they felt.

I’m thankful that you were here to see me graduate from high school. I can’t believe I lost you shortly thereafter. I was only 17 when you passed away and often times I have expressed how unfair it was. At the same time, you have left a lasting impression on my life. You were not here to see me “attempt” college. You were not here to meet Eric, my soul mate.

You were not here to walk me down the aisle. You were not here to see my first born, Hailey. This is probably the hardest thing for me to accept, that you will never see her smiling at you. My gorgeous little girl will never truly know her Pop-pop John. It breaks my heart. I will tell her all about you. She will hear so many stories about you. She would have adored you and I would have melted seeing the two of you play and laugh. Although, a couple of times, I have heard her laughing in her crib through the monitor. My first thought was that you were up there tickling her.

Thank you for marrying the lovely woman who is my mother and creating this large family of ours. My brothers and I appreciate everything that the two of you have done for us and you will never be forgotten. You live in all of us and that will comfort us until the day that we leave this earth and see you again.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you and miss you terribly.

Love your youngest child and only daughter,

Amy