ellie, can I please ask a very special favor of you?
I'd like to have a framed photo of dad at the wedding, on the table in the front foyer, with something printed remembering him. Can I put you in charge of that? It would mean a lot, and I would appreciate it so much.
I got the email when I was online on the couch and Mistah was online on the chair, and I started crying and Billy said what? and all I could do was give him a thumbs up and a nod and choke out, it's okay; it's good and forward him the email across the living room.
Yes, my darling girl. A million times yes.
Yesterday was Father's Day and I approached the day all Bah Humbug but then I started looking at all the photos of all the dads that all the people in all the lands posted, and my frown turned right upside down.
Because even though our million-dollar dad is no longer around, we hit the dad jackpot. While we had him, and now, still, when he's gone.
Our dad really liked being a dad; the man was born for the job:
|The man and me.|
|MB and Ann were over-the-moon excited to have a new baby sister. |
Who could blame them?
|Dad-to-be; still counts.|
|I mean, look at that kid.|
|Flatley girl personified.|
|I think MB? Could be Julie? We were a bald-headed lot.|
Dad wasn't around to walk his gorgeous and beloved Doo down the aisle this time around, but his namesake did him proud:
And Julie made my job easy. For the "something printed remembering him" I used her own words from her beautiful eulogy, five years ago . . .