You know, it's been a few years since you died now. It should be easier, and in some ways it is, but then I imagine you standing there on my doorstep on Christmas morning, smiling, with parcels, and snow on your sensible Grampa boots. You would stomp your feet to get the snow off and give me hug before even bothering to take off your cold parka. Your face would be smooth and you would smell like aftershave, the same aftershave I haven't had the heart to throw out and is still sitting in a box next to the Christmas decorations - a box of things like your airplane templates and little rubber wheels, Xacto knives, and geometry sets. The kids would run up to see you, full of hugs and curiosity. Maybe you'd let one of them pull your finger. And I'd roll my eyes.
You would have turned 68 this year, on December 8th. Wil turned 15 on December 3rd, and has taken up the guitar. Must be a Saggitarian creativity thing. You would be so proud of him. And Kaelan had his first dance with a girl today, and is learning how to put contact lenses in. And I know you would have been there to watch Mads singing in her choir today, too, and would have been bursting with pride for our little hamtart. These things would have been important to you, because Grampas care about things like that. And Serejane - she wore her pyjamas to school today and made teh bestest garland tree ever. I think I'm more sad she will have no memory of you than I am for anything else. She would have loved you so much. You would have loved her so much.
Howard would have been 56 yesterday. His boys are adults now - it's only a matter of time before I feel like I want to seek them out and set the record straight. We've found them both on Facebook and just don't know how to go about making things right. So many holes in our family, so needlessly. Like when the men die, the women just fall apart and cease to function like normal human beings. I'm so grateful for Bill.
I love what I do, Daddy. You would be proud of me, too. I wish I had a recording of you to share with everyone, singing Daddy of Three, or On the Wings of a Dove. I was proud of you, too. I miss you. Merry Christmas.
