February 2nd

Hi Dad!

I got to thinking about you today. It is a day for thinking about you. February 2nd. I can’t forget.

It snowed today. All day long. Before I closed the bathroom door to take my shower this morning at 6:30, I squinted through the blinds to see what kind of day it was. Black rooftops…cold, but dry. Got out of the shower 20 minutes later and the rooftops were white.

Damn. But I slogged out to the truck, turned on the wipers, and mushed over to the restaurant. I learned to drive in this stuff. You see, Dad? You and your little nuggets of wisdom are never too far below the surface.

I was sure the snow would be the kiss of death for sales today. But we did okay. In fact, we had a good day. You’d hardly know it was snowing. The place was packed for breakfast.

I so wish you could see our place, Dad! I look out into the dining room sometimes, and I think about you. The way you and Mom would always come to wherever I worked. The pizza place, the Italian Restaurant, the bakery. The Scandinavian Festival. You always came. You were always part of my successes. I like to think it made you happy to see me do well, though you never really said so, in so many words.

You would be happy with the café, Dad. I think we’re really going to make it happen. Some day, we might actually make some money on it! I hate that you’ll never sit at one of our tables, never tuck a napkin into the front of your shirt and take a big bite out of one of our burgers.

Never see me trying to pass on to another generation some of what I learned from you. The things that are timeless and never go out of style. Honesty. Dependability. Patience (well, I do the best I can…!) Pride in a job well done.

I think it would be easier for me if they—my crew, "my girls" –could have known you. If only they could have met…the person I aspire to be. They might understand, then, why sometimes I’m so prickly. Because I’m frustrated. With myself. When I fall short of what I know I could be. What I should be. What you would have wanted me to be.

Nine years. I can scarcely believe it.

And now, Mom has gone, too. Is she with you? Are you together in some unearthly reality? And isJoyce there too?

I hope, wherever you are, it is…well, "beautiful" is such a lame human word, but it’s the best my lame human mind can come up with.

I hope, too, wherever you are…wherever you all are…you think about me from time to time. Because I think about you.

And I miss you.