Feel free to eavesdrop on this conversation (monologue) to Daddy. 😉
I never have missed you so much as I do right now, Daddy. Things are really starting to make me feel uneasy and you were the only one who knew (knows?) me best. I mean, sure I have Steven and it helps (you remember how close we are), but all in all it’s been a struggle lately. I saw your photograph just now on my Facebook page and it has me thinking about you again. Your smirk and comforting hugs. You may not have been as emotional as Mom (and for that I’m thankful), but you knew (know?) how to make the aches and pain go away.
I suppose I should thank you for coming to visit me a couple of weeks back as well as visiting Steven. Your presence in our dreams made us feel so much better. It would be so nice to see you again and feel those strong, calloused hands again and your silky mostly white and grey hair. I miss hearing your sarcastic and yet comforting (and monotoned) voice. I have since replaced your voice and wonderful polka music on our answering machine at home. I’m not as great as you, but I’m sure it’s fine.
As Christmas draws ever closer, I find myself tearing up again. I keep thinking I’ll see you come downstairs at church and sit next to Steven or Mom. Every time I come back from Eucharist, I keep thinking you’ll be sitting next to me and we’ll be sharing a hymnal and singing our hearts out and praising God! I still hear your singing voice and it’s just as wonderful now as it was then. Once in a while I think I see you or feel you next to me. When I turn again, you’re gone or there is no one.
Tonight at Mass we sang one of my favorite songs, “And Holy Is Your Name.” I swear I heard you singing alongside of me. I choked up and couldn’t talk or sing for a while at Mass. I usually tell people it’s allergies and it gets me through it. Thankfully no one says that I couldn’t have allergy problems in the winter; you know I have year-round allergies.
I suppose you also know by now that I have an “adopted” dad; he is the owner of Nestle Toll House Cafe, where I work now, and his name is Thayne Thompson. I’m sure you’d get along wonderfully with him. He reminds me so much of you and we laugh and carry on much as you and I did do. He has dark hair (which is also turning grey and white) and wears glasses — just like you! He drinks coffee like you and is always encouraging me in my faith and work, like you! He gives great hugs and…and…and I’m tearing up again! I can’t keep this up much longer. Oh no! A tear is trickling down my cheek; I’m trying to lick it away, but I can’t.
Oh Daddy, I wish you and Thayne could meet; I can’t wait ’til you both meet face to face in God’s home. You will see just how wonderful a man he is! He is also like you in that he’s a man of great faith! His faith life is amazing and a wonderful father!
I promise I will save you a seat this Christmas Eve Mass (even if you would have to hold me in your lap as we did when I was younger). I’m about 90% sure Father Dennis will be celebrating Mass (that tear tasted salty; yeah, it just fell into my mouth just now). You would be amazed at all the changes that have happened at church now. I don’t know if you’d like them all or not, but there are darker wood colors and marble tile on the floor. Oh Daddy, I hope you’re still listening and not eager to get back to whatever it is you’re doing now.
Lastly for now, I just want to say, I love you! I miss you and can’t wait to hug you again. Oh dear, here comes the waterworks again! Darned “allergies.” You just can’t stop them; they come and go as they please. I suppose you know that, though.
Good night, Daddy! ❤