I miss my father.
I’ve been thinking of him lately.
It’s odd really.
I have wondered recently what it would be like to talk to him about relationships and guys.
Strangely, we never did when I was growing up.
And now that he’s gone, it’s something I find I would really like to discuss.
Well that and the fascination that people have with football.
You see, my father loved the sport. So much so that when I was growing up, my mother made him promise to spend one day a weekend with the family. You may not think this would be much of a hardship, however to my father it was like being asked to donate an organ on a weekly basis.
I imagine that today would have made him very happy. Even though his beloved 49er’s weren’t in the game.
It’s at times like this that I wish I could see his handsome face light up with child like excitement once more.
Michael (my father) loved life, holidays, Summer time, BBQ’s and so many other special things.
I realize that I am just 6 years younger than he was at his death.
He was much too young.