Dear Daddy,

It's impossible to describe how I feel each year on this day. A friend of mine, Jon, once described grieving his mother and said that he hated how the passage of time made things easier - that made it harder. He didn't want to start missing her less. That was a new kind of pain. I know exactly what he meant. Time has dulled the pain down to a dull edge and that makes me so sad.

Daddy, we think of you so often. We were just in Palm Springs and thought how much fun we would all have there. How many times do we do something or go somewhere that we say, "Wayne would love this" or "Daddy would have made that so much fun"? Doug loves you so much and always wanted to spend more time with you. When the boys say something that we know you would find particularly funny we catch the melancholy and laugh but feel like crying. I miss how you feel and how you smell. I miss hugging you. I miss your arm on my shoulder. I miss your pride in me. I miss commenting on how alike we are. I miss hearing you sing and quote poetry. I miss the stories you told. I miss your humor and your nicknames for everyone you loved: The Captain, the Molitor, Agent Orange, the Silver Fox, Simmar Lamon (the funny story of Lamar Simmons at the Laredo golf tournament), Midget, Squirrel... I miss having you in the world. You are hard to describe to people who didn't know you and that frustrates me. I see them smiling fondly as I try to describe you, but you are so much more vivid. You were so much more interesting in person. A renaissance man, a man of faith, a man who knew sonnets and poems, who loved opera, a man who was funny and Texan and small-town and big city, a man knew how to eat well and drink well, who was always ready to celebrate, a man who always went first class.

The world doesn't seem right without you.

I talk to you often and I wonder what the divine is like. You will make a place for us someday and I will see you then. Until that time, I will miss you more and less every day.

Love,
Paige