I'm sorry I haven't written sooner. I've thought of it many times and was never able to sit down and put pen to paper, as it were.
Dylan wrote a small Facebook post about you today. As usual, any mention of you on social media spurs a flurry of comments and "likes" and whatnot. And, if I'm being honest, it's probably what lit a fire under me to finally write you this letter tonight.
I miss you. Many other people seem to miss you. Sometimes I feel like yelling at people. They didn't seem to appreciate you in life but are first to queue up and yell after you've passed. But, that's not the proper way for me to react to people who are, on the surface anyway, sharing my sentiment. Besides, there's a good portion of that reaction that is probably just me projecting. C'iest la vie.
I think, the thing that has taken me most by surprise recently is how much I am still surprised that you're gone. I know you're gone. I was there when you left. Yet, over a year later, I am shocked multiple times a week that I can't swing by your house and vent to you about whatever inane issue was wrecking my mental space that day. It's strange. It's almost as if enough time has passed that I have distanced myself from the act of you dying and am just left with the absence.
Oh, in speaking of the house, it's gone. I'm sorry. I drove by it today. I almost don't want to tell you about it because I know how much you loved that place. I also know you wanted us to keep it. I'm sorry. It just wasn't in the cards. All of your children combined couldn't afford to keep the house. Maybe that says something about us. I don't know.
But, on a lighter note, I started a new job. I'm working for Weaver Popcorn. The job isn't currently interesting enough to go into a lot of detail but it seems like a good company to work for and I think there is a good amount of room for advancement. Also, it's Monday through Friday and I've broken out of the retail world. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
And, I'm seeing a new girl. Well, we've been seeing each other for a while but I just met her last summer. I think you'd like her. She's smarter than me, which would be endless fun for the two of you at my expense.
I didn't expect it, yet writing this letter to you seems to be making me feel better. So I guess I should thank you for being there for me yet again. Thank you.
I felt like there was a lot I wanted to tell you, but I seem to be drawing a blank on what else I wanted to say.
I know you tried to make your estate as cut and dry as possible. It hasn't turned out to be that way. But, I think we are nearing the finish. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you for that as well.
My brothers are doing well!
Logan had a baby! A little boy. I can't believe you never knew that. I guess the last time you saw Logan was at his wedding, or shortly after. His name is Husdon and he's pretty awesome. He's already tall and is a giggly, happy little dude. He doesn't even cry when I hold him. I can't believe you'll never get to hold him. That's not fair.
That thought just hit me hard.
Cullen moved to Texas. He got an internship doing.......something. He is working designing smart phone apps or some such nonsense. But, he seems like he's doing very well and Heather just moved down there to be with him. He and I don't always see eye to eye but I'm glad he's doing well and I think he seems happy.
Dylan is Dylan. Hahahaha. He's working for a company around here called BarMetrix. He seems to be doing well. He and Kristin are in a good place. I know he misses you. And, the both of us tend to emulate our lives around yours in a lot of ways. He's either going to be a millionaire or end up living in the sewers. All or nothing pops; that's how you did business, that's how Dylan does life. Sometimes I envy him in that.
Mom sold her house. She "downgraded" to a condo just down the road from where she was. I put downgraded in quotations because the new condo is pretty sweet. It just doesn't have unused rooms or yardwork. But don't worry, it has a deeded boat dock! So, she's thinking about getting a pontoon boat next summer. Selfishly I'm hoping she does!
Dylan just stopped by, there's no Jack in the cabinet. I am not my father's son. I guess we'll have to settle for a nice glass of scotch. Maybe I am my father's son.
This has been an interesting exercise. While writing this letter I have laughed, cried, been introspective, and altruistic.
I need to go to bed.
So, let me finish by saying that I miss you. I miss you everyday. I would give anything to have you back and have you healthy. I'll write you again soon.
I love you pops.
-Cody
