Today’s my dad’s birthday. He passed away in March of 2019. I still hear his voice in my head. Once, I actually heard his voice from the other side of my bedroom door, calling me by my childhood nickname. I dream about him and my mom, looking a little younger and walking steady on their feet. They’re in the living room, and dad is grinning because he’s just teased her about something, and my mother is looking mildly disgusted and swatting at him. I don’t often have the same dream, but I have this one pretty consistently. I’m convinced it’s their way of telling me they’re together and happy.

I live in the big, solid house he built with my dd and her family, now. Of course, she’s made some changes to the place, but we always ask ourselves whether dad would like this and whether mom would approve. We’re respectful of his labor of love.

Well, Happy Birthday, Dad. I miss you, but you left me with wonderful memories and a home I cherish. You’re the best dad a girl could have had.