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Two weeks ago today my dad had a heart attack. A week and one day later, he died. Now I'm home and struggling to figure out what to do with just about everything. Who do I talk to about my golf game, cool magazine articles, the advertising business, or Michigan State? I guess I didn't realize how integral my dad was to my daily routine. Yesterday while playing golf I hit a great shot. From 110 yards out, I pulled out my pitching wedge and took a few practice swings. I stepped up and struck the ball. It came off the club head a bit thin and I worried it would rocket past the green. While I stood watching the ball it landed inches from the hole and dropped right in. Immediately there after I took a mental picture in my head so I could tell Dad when he got home from work. Then it hit me, I can't tell him. Sure, I guess I could tell him telepathically or with my thoughts or something, but I can't physically tell him. I can't hear his voice. I can't get the actual feedback of having a conversation him. Ever again.

When this blog was updated on a near daily basis my dad would always let me know what he thought about my writing. What posts he enjoyed, what he thought was stupid, and posts I should develop some more. Those e-mails won't enter my inbox from now on. I'm going to miss just sitting around the bonfire at our cottage and waiting for him to say, "You know, I don't care if you drink beer up here" so I could run up to the fridge and grab a can. I'm going to miss golfing on the weekends and his muffled swear words when he chunked his gap wedge. I'm going to miss spending the weekend mornings and early afternoons doing yard work. I absolutely hated yard work and made sure everyone knew it, but when I think about it, I guess it wasn't that bad.

The idea my dad has left my life doesn't seem real. It's not like I feel as if I'm living in some twisted dream or I'm numb to the pain. I'm not angry or confused. I don't feel like a robot just moving through time. The feelings I have are really indescribable. It's an odd sensation to really think about how I won't see or speak to my dad for a long, long time. I remember all the awesome times we had watching golf, football, or Nascar races. And when I take the time to think about all the wonderful memories I realize they can never be relived. All the questions I would constantly ask him after he finished work or while driving around to golf courses, dinner, movies, or school will go unanswered. I suppose I could ask other people, but it seemed so much more legitimate when it came out of my dad's mouth.

Dad, you were the greatest man in the entire world. You were my inspiration and biggest role model. When I made decisions I asked myself, "What would dad think about this?" I never heeded all your advice or listened to everything you said but whenever I had to take a breath and make a choice, I heard your voice as if you were next to me. I'll miss you a lot. Love you dad.