Dear Daddy,

It has been six years since you left us. Six long years since we have heard your voice, or listened to your music. Six years since we laughed with you and six years since we heard you say "I love you" Everyday I think about you. Almost as often do the kids ask about you or talk about you in some way or another.  I still find myself momentarily yearning to call you to ask you for a recipe, for advice, or even to just hear how your day was. 
So much has happened in the last six years. But I have only one thing I want to tell you about right now.

The reason I am writing this now, is because of your granddaughter.  She is learning to play the guitar and that has been wonderful and sad for me.  I see her sitting here, watch her playing and listen to the beautiful music she is strumming and can't help but see you sitting right behind her. Guiding her hands, fanning her passion and whispering the correct strumming technique or even notes in her ear.  She is trying so hard to learn as much as she can.  She craves more and more.  She loves playing, and I love listening.


When I was a child, even as I grew into an adult. My most favorite past time would be to sit and watch you play your guitar.  I could sit and be mesmerized for hours on end watching you. It didn't matter what you played most of the time I was happy even watching you just change strings and tune. Because I was watching you, to me, work magic.  The sounds you could make come out of those guitars was amazing to me.  I could never get something that beautiful sounding to come out of anything.



But she... she has it.  She has you. She can make magical sounds, and wonderful music. Even if she only knows 3 chords.  She experiments, and is not afraid. She strums and has no cares. She doesn't worry about how it sounds. She doesn't worry about making mistakes.  She plays.  That is how I know you are right behind her, guiding her little hands and big heart to where they need to be.  She is so like you, I can't get over it.

Tonight she tried teaching me.  We got out the other guitar, and I attempted to play.  I haven't tried in so long.  Too afraid.  But she talked me into it. She is such a wonderful teacher.  She actually got me to produce music! It sounded great, as long as she was playing with me.  She has begun writing, or anyway has been playing something she created herself.  Dad, I so wish you could hear this. I know you can, but I wish you could sit with us, on the edge of the bed, in a room lit by a small lamp with the cat laying in one corner and play. Listen and enjoy. Help add too, and give your advice.  Dad, I miss you so much.  I had to lay the guitar down for you.  To picture you walking in and taking it in your hands and start playing right along with her.  Because I know how you could listen to something once and be able to play it like a pro.

 Dad, I know you are proud of her. I know you are proud of us all. I only wish I could hear you say it.  I wish I could see it on your face. I wish she could see it.  I wish they could have gotten to know you so much more than they did.  I may sound selfish, but I don't care.
















I can see your face.  I can hear your voice. I wonder if you have your hands over hers? Are you sitting here with her.  I like to believe all that I wrote before, and believe you are.  She is so wonderful.










If only...

Dad, we miss you as much now, as the day it happened.  Daddy, we love you. Daddy, I love you.

Your daughter