Sunday, October 7, 2012

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