Today marks the first six months of my life, without my dad. I miss him terribly.
And the one thing that really hurts, is that my dad knew how lonely I felt at times, always wondering when I was going to meet somebody.
Destined to single till death, I would tell him. And he would tell me very confidently, that no. That I would find that right person, and when I did, it would be forever.
I remember clearly sitting in the hospital chair in Ann Arbor, and my dad had just defied the odds once again. He was drugged up to be sure, but he was dressed in yellow pajamas. And he asked, "Did you come here alone?"
And I said, "Yes, dad. I'm always alone. That's how I roll."
He looked out the window and I can't accurately capture in print the look on his face, but it was one of complete and utter confidence... like he was looking beyond whatever was out the window.
And he said, "It's going to happen. And he clenched his jaw, the way he used to do, when he was mad or making a point.
His face said: It's a done deal.
I miss my champion of all causes... no matter if he was fighting for me to get paid from my job at the car wash or fighting for my heart.