A year ago today, he was still alive.
He was still calling me daily, sometimes multiple times a day and he was still telling me about all of the crazy things that happened to him.
He was still saving quarters to buy the big toy truck for when his only grand child turned 3, because “it says on the box ages 3 and up, and he’s very smart, he will drive it very well.” He was still bugging me about submitting his retirement application because even though he didn’t actually plan on relaxing, he still wanted to get that check from the government when he turned 62.
A year ago today he hadn’t yet gone out into that field to do a favor for a friend and clear out the trees there and he hadn’t hit the bees that would kill him.
A year ago today i hadn’t yet gotten that phone call from my sister about ‘maybe heat stroke’, and 'ambulance’ and 'I dont know which hospital’ and i hadn’t yet called his phone waiting for his voice to pick up only to be greeted by the voice of a stranger telling me to come right away so they could “tell me what happened.”
So they could tell me what happened to my dad when he died scared and alone out in the middle of a field.
I hadn’t yet had a woman in a white coat take me into an empty room and tell me “He is dead. He was dead before they got to him. I am sorry. He is dead.”
A year ago today i didnt know what it would feel like to have a two year old tell me “this is grandpa’s house. But grandpa is gone.”
Lori never forget that I love you. “Don’t you never forget it.” He said it so often that i still remember the sound of it.