Dear Dad,

Happy Heavenly Father's Day, Dad! I know you were never big on holidays, hugs, and all the mushy stuff... neither am I, but I'm laying in bed wide awake, with thoughts running through my mind, so here goes....

I sure wouldn't wish you back from heaven, but I miss you more then I ever thought I would.

I heard this song on the radio the other day, driving home from Cleveland for work, and I couldn't help but think of you... "Better Off There" -by The Browns

 Its no secret that we weren't close before you got sick, but those last five to six months, we had some of the best talks and the time spent, just me and you, gave me some of the best memories of us together!

 I loved the fact that you kept your humor... Our trip to the Nurology center in Middletown (you getting your way with the truck, getting lost, eating corn chips and cold lunch meat sandwiches, and shoping at Walmart), and driving home from the hospital (even though you kept saying I was driving south) it was all fun!

 You became my friend, and l'm glad that you felt comfortable confiding in me. I love that we got to laugh, and cry together, that we talked about serious things, sad things, and happy things. I will always treasure our conversations and the relationship we built together in the end. 

There is so many questions I want to ask you.... you were Stephen and my sounding board and voice of reason on life's big moments.... (We are finally starting to remodel the house this year. We picked out the flooring and ordered cabinet samples.)

There's so much I wish I could tell you....

I wish you could see the independent, and confident woman, Faith has become. She turned twenty this month... I wish you could see her first apartment.... 

Wyatt bought a hand survival chain and the first thing he said was that he wished he could show it to you, - he thinks you'd like it. The Crosley Car show that you were going to take Wyatt to is coming up in a couple weeks....

He put oil stabilizer in your little Kabota and patched up the muffler.... its running smooth now. He got it all washed up and has used it to haul gravel, tree limbs, dirt, and take Adilayia on rides. 

That tractor means the world to him, I wish you could see how much joy he gets from it.

Adilayia is growing up so fast... she is thinning out and losing her baby face (and pudgy belly)! She has become so quiet, but takes everything in without missing a beat - just like you.

You were always a great Grandpa! I think its hardest, watching my kids miss you, the most. You had so much wisdom that you could have shared with them.... 

I've only been back to your place a couple times since you've been gone. I'm keeping my distance because of all the drama, hurt, and lies. It's weird not seeing you in the shop or sitting at the table.... or having you walk in and tell me 'hi' after I get there. It's weird going through your things... I almost feel like we are invading your privacy. Although I have found some cool stuff!

The family auction is coming up soon and I know how much you wanted to be here for it. We had a work day last week - it did NOT end well! The lies, favorites, and drama continue. You'd be so ashamed, in some ways I'm glad you aren't here to see how awful some have become. If you were here, it would go smoothly and be fair. 

I stopped by your grave to talk for a bit this week.... it still seems somewhat surreal, and sad.

I don't know what I thought it would be like losing you, but it's not easy... especially since you were the glue that was holding what was left of our 'Frick' family together. 

Your death has made me think so much more on the circle of life.... on how I want my life and death to be, on who I let be a part of my life, and on what really is important to me.

I know you were far from perfect. There were some things we will never agree on, and there were things you said you'd have done differently, - me too.

Thank you for all the lessons you taught.

The praise you gave to Stephen and I.

The patience, and love you showed your grandkids.

 And for giving me those last few months of conversations, and memories with you.

I miss you Dad, but your better off there.

-Love, Rhoda