One Year.

Exactly one year ago today, this was my reality. I have been bracing myself for this day. This memory. This unavoidable, heart wrenching nightmare that has become the permanent certainty that my dad is gone. A year has passed since that fated night that I found him, although he died 3 days later. It's been 365 days and yet here I sit, still waiting for him to call. To email. To walk through the door. It's the little things I miss. His corny laugh when he would be talking to one of his closest friends or brothers. His quick little calls to 'check in' and see how the shop was doing or how my car was running. His nicknames for me - which are inside jokes and make no sense to the outside world or actually to me for that matter: "Zyzzybalubah" or "Jabroni," or just "Jabrone" for short. Now, Zyzzybalubah was a 1-time character on Pee Wee's Playhouse...why this nickname stuck, I have NO idea. It's not even a female character, so I'm rather confused. He thought Pee Wee Herman was hilarious, so he would watch it with us on Saturday mornings - which often times would evoke that corny laugh I mentioned a moment ago. I never got it, but man, something struck a chord in him - especially that scene in Pee Wee's Big Adventure when Pee Wee jumps up on the table and dances in white patent leather platform shoes, haha. Whatever, Dad. I remember it like it was yesterday, but in the same breath, these simple, little sweet and funny memories are fleeting.

I sit here typing this, and appropriately playing as my Ella Fitzgerald cd loops, "My Heart Belongs to Daddy"...kismet.

How would my life be different if my dad was still here? I'm not sure - more complete, perhaps. Maybe I would not have bought the boutique, maybe I still would have. Maybe I would have bought a house instead. He always told me I needed to buy a house. "Renting is like throwing money down a rat hole"...I hear ya, dad. I know. Maybe he would be living with me in that house. Who knows. Life is short and under-appreciated until it's ripped from your presence. It's STILL sinking in. I know I can't focus on what could have been, what should have been...only what's going to be. He won't be around for the unseen future - to walk me down the aisle, to hold my chubby brown-eyed babies, to see me flourish in love and life - but I can hear him in my heart and feel him in my spirit. He's up there watching over me, and proud.

Monday, Paul (my brother) and I are going to head up to Portland and celebrate him. We haven't totally pinned down the day, but it will most likely involve bridge-walking, bocci ball, and gelatto - a few of my dad's favorite things. It won't be the same without him, but it will be a good time to reflect upon our fond and fun memories...like this little trip over to Newport earlier last year. This is the last picture I took of him and one of the last times I saw him. Next time I'm back in Newport, I will order a "Panty Dropper" at the Rogue Brewery Bar and Grill and think fondly of how embarrassed I was ordering that the last time we were together :)