Dad- I feel like an asshole. I promised myself and you that I’d write here regularly. I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to remember. But like most things in my life the idea is great but the follow through isn’t always fabulous. You know those good intentions.

If I’m being honest – perfectly honest I fool myself sometimes that you’re not really truly dead. Like today for example. And then I’ll think about you- something you said or did and I’ll have to stop and say okay he’s really gone, and he’s not coming back.

I’m sorry I haven’t been coming here regularly. I guess this is kind of like a gravesite of sorts.

The first year the flowers or rocks appear all the time and as more time passes the visits get less and less.

Is that the way it’s suppose to be?

It doesn’t seem like it’s been 20 months, sometimes it feels like 20 minutes and I can’t breathe.