Dear Dad,

This year I tried pretty hard not to think about the anniversary of your death. I was mostly successful.

In a bizarre coincidence, Dave got married on the day before the anniversary. Kait got married the day or so before you died. How weird is that?

I was also pretty busy this time around- I just finished EMT training and passed my exam on Friday. Saturday was the wedding, Sunday I had lunch with Mom, C, and M. Monday we were home again (sort of).

So this year I didn't have anything to dwell on. I'm not complaining, but it was strange. I remember noting the date midweek last week and I knew I'd be busy. I'd prefer to remember your birthday anyhow.

I can't believe it's been four years. I can't believe the number of changes we've made just in the LAST year and every step of the way, I've thought about how you'd react if you were here. I think you'd be proud. I think you'd be happy for us. I think you'd love where we're at.

It doesn't go away, you know. That's the thing everyone talks about with grief. "It fades." "It gets easier."

It doesn't. I miss you every day. There's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could just give you a call. It's sad, but it's not crippling. I think maybe you'd be okay with that.

I'm trying to be okay with that.

We've been planting trees, which always makes me think of you.

Love,
S