My dad has been gone for almost twenty years, yet I dream about him all the time. They say that your loved ones who have passed visit you in your dreams, so I'd like to believe that. My dad wasn't in my life much as I was growing up, as he was in Maine and my mom moved us to Florida. We did keep in touch with letters and phone calls, and I was able to visit with him once a year. When I was thirteen I got to spend the whole summer with him. Those visits showed me that we had a few things in common besides our brown eyes and dark hair.
We both loved the rain and storms. We both had the same warped sense of humor, and we knew how to push each others buttons. We both loved animals, being in the country, and cookouts.
We both loved my step-mom, Opal.
I spent the last four months of his life with him, taking care of him until he passed. He wanted to die at home and I was determined to make that happen.
I miss you, dad.