Sarah Sloan
Dad,
I thought I knew heartache but I didn’t until now. My heart literally aches Dad. I’m not sure how to get through this but I hope time, family and my faith will help me. I will miss the almost daily phone calls. You started to reflect more on your life during our talks. You reminisced about your family trips to scussett beach as a child. Climbing the rocks for the perfect spot to fish with your dad. Enjoying beachside picnics with your family. Potato picking, listening to so many musicians along the way, Woodstock, where you stormed the fence, was that to get out of paying admission or was it at capacity? I forgot to ask you that. You were everywhere Dad! You were a free spirited man that followed his curiosity just about everywhere. Lived life to the fullest, lived pretty well despite a few bumps along the way but that was okay with you. Things as you said could’ve been better sometimes but overall you said you lived a good life. You told me to have more adventures in life. To stop living so much in fear because that’s not living, that’s existing. I’ll try and get myself into some adventures Dad. I will try my best to be more spontaneous and do more, live more, stop being so afraid. Just like when I was a little girl and I’d see you around school and I’d run to your arms and kiss you all over your face, I know someday I will see you again daddy and I hope to do the same thing. Thank you for being such a good dad. For putting us first for Christmas (the bills can wait) making sure we were happy kids. Calling me your little bambina...that just popped into my mind the other day. I always felt your love. Sharing your love of music with us, letting me help you cook, I wish I knew your version of American chop suey....I could never get it like you had made it. Love you forever Dad
Friday October 20, 2017 at 4:38 am
