Dear Marie, Bennett, and Brooks,
It has been 21 years since my dad passed away.
I remember getting ready for his funeral that morning, I can still hear the blow dryer in my ears while my mom continued on with her "mom" duties even though she wished she could fall apart.
I remember calling my friend and wanting to go play even though I wasn't sure it was ok to wish for "normal."
I remember riding my bike in the wind and barely being able to pedal up the hill because the wind was so strong.
I remember listening to his friends and the minister talk about him with such positivity.
They spoke about how he faced his trials and troubles head on even when most people would fall apart.
Sitting in the pew, I never imagined my life as an adult. I never pictured going to college and graduating without him. I never pictured me walking down the aisle without him. I never pictured my kids not having their Grandpa Rick.
All I could do at the age of 10 was simply put one foot in front of the other.
I woke up the next morning and went to school.
I played with my friends.
I watched cartoons, I ate popsicles, and I rode my bike.
Grandma Nel worked so hard as my mom.
She took on the role of mother and father.
Even though he wasn't with me every day, his attitude and example guided me.
When life was hard, I looked back to how he handled his injury.
When I began dating, I imagined him interviewing the poor guys.
When I got married, I actually pictured/saw him next to me in the aisle.
When I had my children, he helped me get through the deliveries safely.
On a recent trip to the cemetery, we did our usual cleaning and talking.
But this time, Marie and Bennett, you were intensely present.
You asked such good questions and you really wanted to know as much about Grandpa Rick as possible.
You spoke about horses (his favorite), we talked about how he liked to play basketball and golf, you climbed on his stone and said it was his lap, you sang songs, you ran around, and you almost seemed giddy.
At first, I didn't think much of it. But now I know that Grandpa Rick was there with us that night.
I truly believe you were sitting on his lap. I believe he watched you run around and that he was laughing at our silly games.
I believe he calmed the winds so we could set our flowers out.
I believe he rubbed your head, Brooks, and calmed you.
And I believe he gave me the words to say as you asked your many questions.
So, as you get older. We will continue this tradition of visiting Grandpa Rick.
I believe he has more in store for you that we can ever imagine.
