The Things You Miss

It’s funny how the littlest things can be so sorely missed…

I miss hearing my dad yell at the TV when the Eagles play like crap.
I miss my dad’s chili; no others can compare.
I miss hearing my dad’s voice.
I miss seeing how excited my dad would get when talking about going to local flea markets with me in the summertime.
I miss watching my dad turn an ordinary piece of wood into something beautiful in his basement workshop, sometimes even letting me help him do it.
I miss my dad dancing with his life-sized skeleton before hanging it from the tree in the front yard around Halloween.
I miss my dad’s laugh.
I miss how my dad would come into my home and immediately begin to pet my cat, calling him “Little Clyde” in a genuinely loving voice.
I miss my dad’s stupid, goofballs jokes that were so bad we couldn’t help but laugh.
I miss being at the grocery store with my dad and having to help him find in which isle he set down his glasses and forgot about them.
I miss finding and sharing rare coins with him and seeing him happily explain the history of some of the coins in his collection.
I miss my dad calling and asking me if I wanted to get up early to go to breakfast the next morning.

I miss my dad. But that’s not a little thing.

(This was originally posted in November)


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