Missing You, Part II

I guess this is somewhat repetitive. I miss Dad. Especially at times like these when the weather is bad outside. I know if he was here he would be calling mom at the office and checking on her and calling her and calling her and making sure she was on her way home. It is not that I can't call and check on her, I can. It is not that I don't care. It is just that well, I get busy and I don't follow up like Dad would. You know Tuesday night the weather was bad and I didn't even fall up with her until I heard it sleeting outside. Luckily she was safe and sound at home. Yes, it is the little things that make you miss him even more.

And tonight, as I type this post, my brother is on his way to a job interview. And I am missing that Dad is not here to witness this occasion or to do all of the things I know that Dad would have done - like ask "what are you wearing?" "you're wearing that?" "do you plan on shaving?" To quiz him and do mock interviews with him. Mom and I did what we thought our part should have been. Mom ironed his shirt. Mom and I both did mock interview questions with him.

There is something crazy about these times that makes me want to talk to Dad. There are other times I long for conversation with him but these times just simply remind me even more that those conversations are to be no more. Period. And oh, how I do miss them. I think I'm even harder on myself because of the promises I made to Dad before he died. I know I cannot fill Dad's place but I can do my best to watch over his family and love them and check on them. I promised I will do my best. So, when it comes to walking someone through an interview I ask myself, did I do enough?

I think to that it is getting really close to Superbowl Sunday. This Sunday was the last time I had a conversation with Dad. Well, not a conversation, really, Dad knows what I'm talking about. Or maybe he doesn't because I think his mind was staring to slip somewhat and he was tired and frustrated. And, even though that conversation ended crazily I still know that Dad loved me. And, so, on Superbowl Sunday as we are getting ready to head to friends. I will remember that image of Superbowl of Mom and Dad resting. I will try push the "regret" friend away who keeps trying to visit me because I didn't go and give Dad a hug buy and hear his voice tell me he loved me one more time. I will instead cherish the memories that they got to get some good rest.

Good night all, say prayers tonight for brother bear................