One year...

He missed 365 sunrises... and 365 sunsets.
He missed Henry turning 4, James turning 8, and Peter turning 2.
He will never see the artwork my boys bring home from school, the girlfriends they fall in love with, the colleges they pick.
He will never grow old with my mom.
He will never hold the children my sister will have one day.
He will never again bemoan the state of my car saying, "Clearly we have different standards of clean."
He will never call to ask me what foods he should pick up before we arrive home for a visit... and whether or not I'd like pulled pork or chili waiting for us in the crock pot.
He and I will never make apple pie together again.
He will never cut the grass, wax Slick, or buy batteries again.
He will never tell us about his music collection again (which totals over 5,000 cds) or tell us the singer/ songwriter/ player of any band that ever was.
He will never watch The History Channel and tell us over his shoulder that "I don't want to be stupid when I grow up" in hopes that we'd catch his drift and turn off the reality TV show in favor of an educational one.
He will never be the first one out on the beach, setting up blankets and coolers and a radio for our family.
He will never sit on the front steps and tell me about the neighbors.  (Incidentally, this was one of my favorite things to do with my father.  I cannot tell you all of the funny comments he's made and stories he's told!)
He will never have another cigarette, glass of wine, or fish filet from McDonald's... all of which were favorites.
He will never hold our hands, give us a hug, or tell us how much he loves us.

But I know.  And I remember.

My dad loved hummingbirds.  Much to my mother's chagrin, he'd buy a new hummingbird feeder for the gazebo every spring.  The reason my mom didn't like it is because it's a huge mess.  The liquid food is comprised of one part water to one part sugar which drips and gets all over the deck (which, in turn, draws the ants).  At the very beginning of summer last year, I was outside playing in the front yard with the boys and a hummingbird flew right up to me, fluttered directly in front of my face for a few seconds, and then flew away.  I have never seen a hummingbird up that close in my life before then and haven't since then.  I believe it was my father letting me know he's still close by.

Even though Dad has missed everything this past year, in some ways he's been everywhere alongside of us because I carry him in my heart everywhere I go.

There are so many songs that remind me of my father,  but this is one that tops the list...

Rest in peace, Daddy.  We think of you all the time and miss you more than words can say...