Happy 95th, Daddy!

If Dad were still alive, he'd be 95 years old now. But he's already gone back to Heaven to be with Mom and lots of other people I love. I miss his large and gnarled hard-working hands. I miss his laugh when someone said something funny. I miss his big scoops of ice cream. I miss going to visit him, and taking a walk together around the farm buildings, he with his cane in hand. I only saw him cry a few times, but when Mom died, he sobbed endlessly for 7 months. I think he finally realized how much he loved her and depended on her. I hope he is healthier. I hope he doesn't have depression anymore. I hope he doesn't have to milk cows anymore. I hope he gets to go fishing with Uncle Milt sometimes... or at least TALK about going fishing together. I hope he is enjoying being with his parents, his siblings, Mom, and my 4 siblings who have died. I hope he knows I miss him. I hope he misses me. I hope I'm making him proud. When I am 95, I hope he and Mom will come and get me. :)