Dear Dad

I spent the weekend with M's family.

It makes me a little sad, because I never get to spend time with you again. We don't get to golf or grab burgers or play fetch with the dog. I miss that.

We went to a Tigers game. The weather was perfect, the game was not.

I hit a beautiful shot with my 8 iron on Saturday. I think you'd have been impressed.

I didn't go to church with the family today. Sometimes I feel guilty about that. Less so today because I found out, after the fact, that Heather was talking about how god cured her cancer because she was faithful and prayed enough. That would have annoyed me.

I thought for a while that maybe I was just being petulant about not attending church but the truth is, life is too short to do something you don't enjoy if you don't have to. Bigger than that, though, I have respect for the belief system. I think it cheapens the sentiment for me to be sitting in the seats. I'm sure M's mom is holding out hope that we'll be converted and showing up seems like leading her on.

The truth of the matter is that the only thing you wanted from me before you died was to have Jesus Christ as my savior. I couldn't pretend for you, not even under those circumstances. Going to church with them cheapens the honesty we had in our relationship and I don't like how that makes me feel.

I think I explained it well enough to M, though I didn't bring you into the conversation. I don't think I should have to. He seemed to understand and I think it's a settled issue now.

We're going to see Mark this weekend. We're leaving on your birthday. I'm nervous. I'm not sure what I'll talk to PaPa about. I hope Mark won't be a complete tool.

Sometimes I think I've reacted the whole wrong way to your death. I haven't gotten closer to anyone in the family - in fact, I'm more and more distant. That might be bad. I'm still not interested in fixing it. It's one of the many things I'd ask you about if you were here.

I love you, Dad. I miss you.

Sarah