I miss my dad, but no more than I did when he was alive. It'd be nice to talk to him, but we never have a lot to say. He was always supportive, but it's telling that one day when he was bearing his testimony he said that I was 'the son he was the most like and the son he understood the least'. I took home a few of his shirts, largely because the family was insistent that I take *something* as a memento. I'd never seen him wear these shirts--it had been 20 years since I saw my parents on a regular basis--so they aren't things that directly remind me of him. But they're still a little comforting to wear.
In the end, the important thing is that he raised me well, and a lot of who I am today is because of him. Charitable. Considerate. Friendly. Kind. Thoughtful. He didn't make a promise he couldn't keep. He recognized the importance of a good joke, even in a serious situation. He knew it was important to be able to see things from the other side.
And I do miss him.
This entry was originally posted at http://cyrano.dreamwidth.org/1243521.htm