I missed the anniversary of my dad's death by a few days. I didn't remember until I started catching up on my blog reading today saw that both my brother and sister had posted about it. I felt awful at first. And then I felt a little proud of myself that I've healed that much. It only took me 16 years.
As I looked at the picture of his tombstone that my brother somehow got someone back in Michigan to take, it made me laugh. My dad was always the prankster, always making everyone around him laugh. So of course his tombstone would have to have one last joke on it.
And then I started to cry. Because after 16 years, I still miss you, Dad. Like it was yesterday.
