I missed my dad yesterday. I was driving between preschool and daycare and had a few moments in the car and lots on my mind, and I thought, "I'll call Dad - I know he'd love to hear from me." Before I knew it, I was playing for myself how he would answer the phone, and I was picturing the selfless smile on his face. It took me a while to realize that I couldn't do it. This is the first time in a long time that I have missed him like this. And I think it's the first time since the accident that I could remember things about him so clearly and crisply.

After that, of course, I thought about him all day - all the things I wish I could share with him, all the things I wish I could do with him, and replaying his chuckles and smiles over and over. And I contemplated the timing ... how we can go so long in between "missings," and I think about how my mom has told me that she still misses her dad and wishes she could call him up to chat. He was 96 when he died in 2006. If she still misses him and he still seems so fresh in her thoughts, then I'm glad to know that my dad will still come up in my memory - that he will still feel like a relevant presence. I hope he can feel us too and see our joys and sorrows from heaven. We miss you here, Dad!