A Person Shaped Hole

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Dad,

I miss you.  I miss just you.  I miss the times you,Teri, and I would spend together.  Now it feels as though we’ve fallen by the wayside, that we don’t matter anymore.  We try to make an effort but is it returned?  When we call you on the phone we don’t always want to talk to Rossana or the kids,  What do we have to say to them?  We want to talk to you, our Daddy.

I remember playing baseball in the yard with you.  I remember our old 80s t.v. and VCR.  I remember going to the movie rental place and Teri and I always picking out the same half a dozen movies.  Pete’s Dragon.  Thomasina.  I remember playing in the yard and smelling steak cooking.  I remember watching Disney movies and learning my ABCs with you.  I remember your purple Northwestern t-shirt that you wore until it practically fell apart. I remember going to work with you in Woods Hole to that building with the huge whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling and the hazardous material signs.  I remember the tickle monster before bed and the “world records” whenever we cleaned our dinner plates.  I remember pizza from Graziella’s (I don’t remember how to spell it.) and it sitting hot on my lap as we drove home.  I remember being carried in from the car as we pretended to be asleep.  I remember when you were gone.  I remember when things were no longer the same.

I miss the memories that never were.

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