Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Today would have been your 78th birthday. I really miss you. I miss calling you every weekend. I miss talking about teaching and music. I miss telling you how spring is going in Colorado. I wish you could have heard me play the Leningrad. I actually got to do it! Can you believe it?

Did you see how I put your clarinet on top of one of the bookcases in the dining room next to the old horn? I like seeing it every day. I even kept your reed on the mouthpiece. And sometimes at night, I listen to Stan Getz and Paul Desmond to remind me of you.

You know, Dad, today is Good Friday. When you were lying in that hospital bed at the end, did you think about Jesus? Did you ever admit that He is who He said He was? I prayed so hard that you did. I cried so hard for you.

I don't know if you remember, but there was one thief crucified on either side of Jesus. One of the thieves, as he hung on a cross next to Jesus, believed in Jesus at the very end of his life. I really pray that you did, too.

I love you, Dad. I miss you.


Love,
Your Little Bird