Just thinking of you today, dad, and missing you. It's been one year, seven months, and twenty-one days since you left us and we miss you. I don't go to the cemetery as much as I should, just as I didn't visit you as much when you were alive as I probably should have. But, just as when you were alive, I still think about you often and love you. Sometimes I still find myself about to call you and tell you something. Usually something unimportant. A funny thing I heard on the radio that I thought you would appreciate or something the kids did that would tickle you. We look forward to seeing you again and know that you are in good hands! A song that you used to like just popped into my head: "I'm gonna let glory roll when the roll is called in glory. I'm gonna get beside myself when I get beside the King that day. I'm gonna have the time of my life when the time of my life is over. I'm gonna get carried away when I get carried away." I imagine you sitting in the best gospel concerts you've ever heard--nothing like what's heard on earth--and getting so tickled, you're laughing and wiping tears away, clapping your hands, and tapping your foot. Sometimes I see you surrounded by your mom, dad, and Donna. Sometimes I envy you. Have a blast, dad! I'll see you when I get home.
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