Two years ago today, my dad died. We were very much alike, and we were known to butt heads every now and then. He was not a perfect man, but he loved us and he was proud of us. He was a good dad, and I miss him. This has been a sad, overwhelming week. Two years sounds like both a long time and an inconceivably short time. I have sort of gotten used to our family as it is now, but sometimes it hits me hard, the things that he has already missed.
This is my favorite picture of the two of us. He had never worn a tuxedo before, and he was so happy for me. He was very sick at the end, but this is how I like to remember him.