My cousin was camping at a campground I used to go to with my parents all the time. Earlier in the day I was telling her the campsites my dad favored. She then sent me a picture … it was the front campsite we’d spent so many holidays and summers on … the truck in the photo is a pristine Chevy (my dad always kept his vehicles in top notch shape) and the plate says “Larry’s truck.” We always went camping around Father’s Day. He’s there, doing what he loved.

My daddy has been gone a year and three months. Since then I’ve gotten engaged and my fiancé and I are building our first home together. I know he would be proud and so happy for us. Some days I don’t even feel like he’s actually gone and then it hits me. He’s really gone forever. This isn’t some bad dream; this is now my reality. I just want to hug him again and tell him I love him. Father’s Day is coming up and this will be the second one without him. He wasn’t materialistic but I always got him something and we had lunch together. He appreciated the simple things in life.

I know he’s proud of me and always “with me” but I wish he was here. He should still be here with me.

I love you daddy.

I first met Wanda in 1990 when my daughter and her granddaughter attended the same preschool. I knew immediately that it was a friendship meant to be.

For over thirty years she was one of my biggest supporters, someone I turned to for a shoulder to cry on and arms to hug me, and someone I also shared so many, many happy, fun and memorable times and experiences with.

She was one of a kind; no one else like her on this earth. I can’t believe how much I miss her.

Ricard walked into my life one evening in 1981, and from that first meeting we were together over 40 years.

It was love at first sight, we just clicked. He was my best friend, my dance partner, my one and only love.

The human mind has always been so fascinating to me. Memories and what triggers them is of particular interest to me especially since losing my Dad.

We spent our summers at the beach, in Disney World riding Space Mountain over and over again, cruises all over the world, and swimming. My Dad always called me his water baby. One of my favorite memories was at our beach house going swimming at night. I remember the bright orange floaties my Dad put on my arms. I remember the way the ocean smelled as he held my hand walking down to the pool. I remember his laughter as I splashed water on him as he glided me across the water on his back. Those nights were perfect, the most beautiful memories of my time with him. He would always say “See if you can swim to the light at the end of the pool baby girl”.

I loved that, there was something special about those nights. It wasn’t even about the pool or getting to stay up late and swim at night. It was about those moments I got with him, his time, just Father and Daughter moments. I wish I could get them back, I wish I had more time with him but the truth is, there would never be enough time for me with him because I always wanted more. To have a Dad that incredible, loving, funny, special –to say he gave me the world by giving me his time is an understatement.

When I lost my Dad, it felt like I lost a part of myself. I felt this huge hole in my heart that could never be filled. I felt as if I was going to die from a broken heart. I think I compartmentalized those memories. Tucked them far away in my mind to keep them safe and to keep my heart safe from feeling the pain of his absence.

At the time, we had just moved into a home that had the same shape pool and diving board I grew up with in my back yard. Last year, I really didn’t want to swim much or go outside to see the beautiful tropical garden my Husband created for me. Again, the human mind has always fascinated me, the great length it goes to to protect my heart amazes me.

Fast forward a year later and I don’t know if it’s because I saw two red cardinals flying through the garden sprinklers or if my mind had convinced my heart it was time but I decided to jump in. Jumping in was the easy part. Swimming under water to the light at the end of the pool was the hard part.

The more I did it, the more I discovered that I could see my Dad while I was swimming under water. All of my most special childhood memories came flooding back to me all at once. The night time swims, my orange floaties, the sound of his voice as he told me to swim to the light at the end of the pool, riding on his back in the water, vanilla ice cream cones at midnight. Now, every off day I have during the Summer, you can always find me swimming under water to the light at the end of the pool. The human mind, heart and memories will always find a way to keep you connected to your loved ones.

Although it wasn’t the safest thing to do, Dad was a wild card when it came to the 4th of July. He loved to make balloons filled with Acetylene, tie them to balloons filled with helium, and send them up in the air with a fuse.

They exploded into the loudest BOOM! They would light up the sky and he had such a blast doing it. Dad was always enjoying life and full of good times. He had a way of making everyone around him laugh.

Greatest Dad & Grandpa ever! Truly missed every single day.