Dear Daddy,

Hey Daddy, Can you come check the vent in my bathroom? It's making a weird metallic sound and I need you to come down here and look at it, wiggle the vent a bit, and then tell me to call my landlord. Did you see that the Red Sox are in the World Series? I was in the room during two of the games and they lost, but last night I was in the room and I wasn't watching and they won! I reversed my curse! I'm glad you aren't able to watch the games, because I think you would have definitely had another heart attack. I'm not trying to be funny, but just like Papa Donald, if you were in the hospital we would have told the nurses NOT to let you watch any of the games. Speaking of things we would want to keep from you, so your heart could heal and you could get stronger,  we would not have told you about what happened in Pittsburgh today. Or about the bombs mailed to politicians on the left and various large companies that might not support Trump. Daddy, is it weird tha...

Dear Daddy, I kind of want to start these letters with "Hi Daddy" instead...I think I might do that...but anyway. I just listened to "our song", the song I never wanted to hear again, the song that I wake up with stuck in my head more often than not; I listened to it. I don't know why, but I figured since I've been listening to it for weeks on end in my head, I might as well hear the real thing. So I listened to it. It was not the same hearing it out-loud as it is hearing it in my head.   I listened to it twice and I cried. Lullaby by Billy Joel. Who knew that an innocent lullaby a famous musician wrote to his daughter (another Alexa!) would be such a meaningful song in my life and throughout our relationship. It's not that we listened to this song frequently, we didn't. There are hundreds of songs you and I listened to together more than we have ever listened to this song, but those are not "our songs". I have always known that it was ...

Hi Daddy, Today was the first day I felt like myself (not counting Morocco). It wasn't all day, but at work this afternoon I actually wanted to be there. As soon as I got in the car to go home I wanted to call you and tell you. I had the thought to give you a call 6 times on the drive home, and each time I had to remind myself that I couldn't. Not because you were at a meeting, at a protest, or left your phone at home, but because you can never answer your phone again. This is making me cry right now, and I wanted to focus on other things in this entry. Daddy, here is a list of all the little things I've wanted to call or text you about in the past few days- I'm going to be at the Churwin's for the first night of the World Series, but DON'T WORRY, I will not be in the same room (or on the same floor) as the TV.  The other night, I was at a restaurant and an old man walked by and he totally farted SO LOUD he probably shit his pants. It was definitely hi...

Dear Daddy, I don't like that time is passing. I don't like that with each minute that goes by I am moving further away from the last time we were together, or the last day we spoke, or the last day you opened your  eyes when I called your name, or the last day you squeezed my hand so hard you left a mark on my wrist.  I don't want another day to pass, but I don't have a choice, and you aren't here to talk me through it. Thirty-three years I got to spend with you, and I am grateful and thankful. I just feel that I got the short end of the stick. You were fine. And then you weren't. And my Daddy, the toughest and most ballsy guy I know was gone; his body turned against him. It's not okay. I know am lucky to have not only had a Dad like you, but to have a Dad like you for as many years as I did. But I hate the concept of time right now. Thirty-three years of having you here. How am I supposed to do that same length of time without you. The thirty-three y...

Dear Daddy, I got back from Morocco last night. I loved it there. You would have hated it (too much walking, not enough naps), but I loved it, especially Chefchaoen (the blue city).  I thought of you every time I saw a fire hydrant, I even took a picture of a few of them for you. I saw a Moroccan firetruck in action but wasn't able to get a picture. I thought of you then, too. On the trip, there were times when I felt like life was great, the way I usually feel when I am traveling. But then I'd remember. People were sharing stories of their parents, and none of them knew my pain. Older couples enjoying another vacation together reminded me that Mom will never get to go on another trip with you.  I didn't want to be a "Debbie Downer", so I only brought it up when appropriate, which is always awkward. In my head, I kept you alive and at home. Out-loud, I spoke of you in the present. It wasn't, "My dad loved fire trucks" but "My dad loves fire ...

Dear Daddy, I think it's finally starting to hit me. It's been two months without you.  Its been two months since I got to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, and talk to you. It's been over two months since you saw me walking into your hospital room. Over two months since we watched The Three Stooges.  It's almost three months since I heard your voice, assuring me I'd be stuck with you for 50 more years. It's been over three months since our last family dinner, and last family photo. It's so hard to explain how I'm feeling. Remember my relationship in Baltimore that ended badly? How that felt like my heart was being stomped on, I was being stabbed in the back, and my whole world was unraveling around me? I lost friends, my reputation was being trashed, and my general mood was depressed. I cried so much. I did everything I could to make myself feel better. Therapy, dance, jiu-jitsu, muay thai, work, even 12 step programs I most certainly didn't f...