I don’t want to forget the way his glasses sat perpetually crooked on his nose. He bought them by the six-pack from Costco and they were inevitably getting bent so they never sat straight.
I don’t want to forget his gigantic, old school headphones he wore while doing yard work so that he wouldn’t miss a Rockies game.
I don’t want to forget how he’d let me come plop on his lap anytime, even when I was an adult and even though (as many others have said) I have a bony butt.
I don’t want to forget how he wrote emails text messages like a teenage girl, using all sorts of abbreviations like CU L8R and TY and always signed it :> D because he never figured out that the parentheses sign made a better smile. Or maybe he liked it that way.
I don’t want to forget how he could whip out pizza dough in 10 minutes and no matter how much I practice, mine never tastes as good as his.
I don’t want to forget his huge, quart-sized mug that he would drink herbal tea out of every morning. One of us got it as a souvenir at Disneyworld in 1992 and he used it ever since.
I don’t want to forget how he’d always raise his hands and close his eyes during worship in church, even when the song wasn’t a “hand raising” song and even when he was the only one.
I don’t want to forget the way he always called me Beck, never Becky.
I don’t want to forget the way he loved to tell OPJs and then would sit there with this pleased grin on his face while we all groaned.
I don’t want to forget how much he loved to eat ice cream. He always had seconds. Always. And if there was a small amount left in the container, he “had” to finish it.
As time goes by, I know these memories will start to fade. I wish there was a way to stop that from happening. I guess I took for granted the fact that he’d still be around doing this stuff for a long time so I wouldn’t have to remember it. I’m grateful for the time God gave us with him but I wish it weren’t over quite so soon.
I miss my dad.