I’ve been in a melancholy state since your death but sometime it’s stronger than others. This past couple of days has been those stronger times. I went to get that old, iron bed out from the shed because I’ve been wanting to use it and I found myself asking about the measurements of it and I said to myself “oh, i’ll ask dad.” and I felt everything stand still and crash with the realization that you’re not here for me to ask. I started to get it out and had to move stuff around for me to get it because of all your “treasures” that were in front of it and I found myself remembering the time you brought it home, I saw it in the old house on the property and you asked around about it, this was all before the strife and I remember you bringing it home and you said “here it is.” I didn’t appreciate it then. You’re missing a huge new adventure in my life and I find myself wanting to come home and tell you about everything and cry and tell you how afraid I feel and all my worries so I can here your words of advice and I come home or start to call home and then realize your not there, so I tuck it away and try to force the tears away because I’ve cried more this past year than I probably have in my life. Today is your birthday. You loved your birthday. There isn’t a time when I think back that you weren’t giddy about this day. You always asked for the same birthday dinner of meatloaf and homemade mac and cheese. I’d always get you some cheesy card and you’d read it and thank me for and give me one of your big hugs until I became too cool to be hugged and now I miss those hugs more than I thought ever possible. I miss you dad, more than I ever knew I could.