Dear… Papa
Oh Papa. Where do I begin?
I never knew you the way the others did.
I never saw you run. I never saw you ski. I never saw you fix a car, or ride a bike, or chop firewood.
But I did see you.
I heard you sing, when others only heard mumbles.
I saw your hands dance when I played the piano, I heard you laugh as I pushed your chair around the room, I saw you cry when your daughter kissed you and I saw your wide smile when you saw your wife.
I heard you whisper jokes in my ear, I saw you steal a cookie, I know you cared about the president, I know you loved Jesus.
You were sick. I guess you know that now, but you didn't while you were here. You didn't understand why you couldn't do what you used to be best at.
I hope you run now.
I hope you ski. I hope you drive the flashiest car in heaven, I hope you ride your bike up a mountain, I hope you always have a roaring fire.
I hope you dance with God and crack jokes and sing songs and look down at me and laugh.
I hope you remember everything the sickness made you forget. I hope you remember my name. Please, please remember my name.
I love you forever Papa