My dad and his glasses and my sister, Kelli, originally uploaded by estacey.

Tonight I'd like to eat a fried egg sandwich, a Snickers bar, and drink some black coffee from a thermos in his honor. Sadly, I'll be diving. Maybe I'll watch a Clint Eastwood flick this weekend instead. Or listen to some George Jones. I'm sure that would make him proud. How about Paul Harvey? Is he still on the air?

It sure makes me sad I can't tell him about batfish and ingrate cats and six-foot-long green morays. I'm sure if I could, he'd let out one of those delighted, head-shaking laughs I can still hear. If this thing had audio capabilities, I could do an impression of it for you. When I try in my head, I start to both giggle and cry.

I wish he could visit. I'd take him sailing. I'd take him to Shuckers at sunset. I'd take him on a glass-bottom boat tour in the Keys. I'd take him out for Thai food. Hell, I'd even take him out for ribs. I hate that he's not a part of my life. I hate that he never got to meet Kyle or Macy.

I wish I had those Drew Carey glasses of his. I wonder what happened to them? Or his blue thermos? Or his wallet? I'd like something more of his to hold.

http://estacey.blogspot.com/2005/04/42705.html
(Today's entry apparently wasn't an original idea.)

http://estacey.blogspot.com/2005/01/dad-revisited.html

Miss you, Dad.