Dear Dad,

As time goes by, the pain of your loss gets easier, but I don't think I will ever stop missing you. I really miss being able to pick up the phone and ask your advice, or just talk about things in general, especially over the last four years. I spent a lot of time in a job wasn't comfortable in and it would have been really good to have been able to bounce things off you. I think the reason I stayed as long as I did was because I felt like I'd be disappointing you. It was that job I'd dreamed of for so long, and I knew you'd have been proud of me for getting it. Once I really sat down and thought about it, I realized what you would have told me when I first realized it wasn't what I'd hoped it would be: You were already proud of me, and that if I was that unhappy, I needed to get out and you'd still be proud of me.

I'm still going through some stuff, but I'll be able to work it out. One step at a time, right?

In other news, I got to go back to that music weekend I used to go to in the fall this year. I wish Grampa Moses were still around so I could share with him how much music means to me and thank him for passing that on.

On the subject of music, did you know that I waked you with a bunch of friends at a music retreat a couple of months after you passed? I sang a song for you called "When I Go". I'd wanted to sing it for you at your memorial service, but there were too many people there and I chickened out. I'll sing it to you sometime when I visit your grave. The last verse always breaks me up:

"And should you see my wandering form out on the borderline
Between death and resurrection and the council of the pines
Do not worry for my comfort, do not sorrow for me so
All your diamond tears will rise up and adorn the skies beside me
When I go"

Anyway, just needed to talk.
Love you, old man, and I miss you

Tami

Not so sad letter this time

Dear Dad,

Been thinking about you a lot lately, but in a good way and not a sad way. It's been mostly about the little things that I could call you up about and get your advice on. Little did I realize at the time how much you were teaching me and how much I would miss that when you were gone.

A garage door spring went on my boss' garage door last week and it was my job to go get a replacement spring. So I call around to a couple of the local hardware stores where we have accounts. One place was extremely helpful, the other one I got one of the young kids who work there on college breaks and he really didn't know enough to be very helpful. So I grabbed the busted spring to take with me and off I went. I was under orders to only get one spring to replace the broken one, even after I said "Hey, maybe we ought to replace both at the same time." The helpful hardware place and I then proceeded to have a long discussion about the weight of the door (and here's where I would have called you, because I bet you could have told me!) and how replacing only one spring is very dangerous because the other spring will break from being subjected to the stress of of the new spring. I had kind of figured that one out on my own, but it was good to have the hardware guy tell me so I could use that for ammo. I go back, get the go-ahead to buy the second spring, but it's the end of the work day, so I leave buying the springs for the next day. I decide to go to the closer hardware store because it's snowing and the roads are kind of slick. Of course the don't have the right size springs. But one of the older, more knowledgeable guys is working and also tells me you need to replace both springs and that it was a good call on my part. Back to the first hardware store, get both springs and am able to pass off the project to one of our volunteers, who happens to be a carpenter.

Also thought of you on Friday, when I had to plow for the first time this winter. I didn't do do bad a job, but I did go through and critique my work from your perspective afterwards. I also had my intern do a ride-along, he wants to learn how to plow. I told him what I knew, showed him how to lift the blade to push the snowbanks back and how to back-drag. Talked a lot about you and how much you'd taught me about plowing and lots of other stuff. Chris says you must have been a pretty cool dad. I said, yeah, you were.

We went in on a pig from my friends' farm. I remember what you told me when I was little and you'd go in on a pig with someone. "Don't name it, we'll be eating it later" or something along those lines. I went and visited the pigs, helped Holly and Sue with chores a couple of times, and now I am enjoying a freezer full of pork. Best bacon I've ever eaten, by the way.

Bandit's been having some medical issues lately. And with typical Bill luck rearing it's head, it's something that has our vet stumped. She's never seen anything like it before. Oh, great. Of course it can't be something simple or easily identified, that would be too easy. Why is it that things can never be easy in our family? You got an answer for that one? No? Yeah, I didn't think so. But Bandit's getting better, so I guess that's all that really matters.

Well, I've got some serious video game plans for my day. I know you don't get the fascination that Ritch and I have for gaming, but hey, it amuses us, so there.

Love ya, Pops!

Tami