Michael would say: “I got another atta boy today.” So silly since I am doing a job I love. Nurse.

My father loved crossword puzzles. When I came into my parents’ apartment, I had to see not only his handwriting but also the last crossword puzzle he had filled out — the phrases that he had written (his unique handwriting) — I was also grasping for straws. I needed to be the closest I would ever get to goodbye, to his last words that I never had …

What I saw stunned me!

The last thing that he had written was actually a motto, a maxim, a saying that was completed from individual letters assigned to numbers scattered throughout the completed crossword puzzle. It read: “With Bravery Stands Happiness”

… his last words that I needed, written by him, by his hand and left now to me …

Two years ago, on February 8th, I got the call your fight was over. I already knew. The pain I felt as I collapsed to the floor just before my phone rang told me you were gone. Even in death, our bond was one I wasn’t letting go of without a fight. They told me “now I could see you” but also told me “only for a few minutes” as your body was still contagious.

Little did they know I came fully prepared to finally be able to tuck you in to bed after 22 days apart — one last time. It’s not our happiest memory but being able to do that for you once more is one I’ll treasure forever. I just hope you knew …

May we meet again. I love you, Daddy!

My mom, without fail, made that predictable midnight call on my birthday. When I married and moved out, I too made that midnight call to her on her birthday. For three years my phone hasn’t rang and I can’t call her either. But I have the memories of all the wonderful years we had being the first to call each other at midnight.

Happy 90th Birthday (2/8) in heaven mom. I miss you.

He leaves Dimes and visits my dreams.
I cannot hear the roar of a motor cycle without him invading my thoughts.