I made some coffee this morning from your coffee maker and sipped it from your ol' Browns mug. You'll be happy to know that the team is still "rebuilding." And, if not this season, "next season for sure" they'll find some of that Jim Brown/Otto Graham spirit that's been resting dormant somewhere near the shores of Lake Erie.
Much has happened in this past year. I know you're aware. The family grew with the birth of Averie, a little burst of giggly glee. And Lily and Alex and Forrest are growing up so much and becoming such amazing people.
We talk about you often. And I think you'll be happy to know that it no longer brings instant tears. Quite often, it brings up those doubled-over, uncontrollable laughs that wrinkle our faces and turn them red. I suppose we cry, then, too. But, for a different reason. The laughter is shaking them out. And sometimes the memory does strike a particularly deep chord and there's no helping it. But, you've always understood that. I can remember more than a few occasions when your eyes filled with that bittersweet salty water of memory.
I still cannot believe that it's been over 6 years since we've seen you.
Your phone number is still in my cellphone. I don't know how to bring myself to erase it. Maybe in the next year someone will figure out a way to make contact with the beyond. So, I'll keep it. I'll keep the mementos, too. The coffee maker, the Browns mug.
Someone once said, "Time heals all wounds." I think that's close to being true. Time heals most wounds. But, I know there's always going to be a longing for you, Pop. You mean too much to Kip, Ellie, Sadie, Mom and I. I'm always going to see you in football games. I'm always going to be able to look out at the ocean and think of you cruising on the USS Virginia or the Yellowstone. And we'll always feel like we did when we were waiting for you to return home, knowing that when we see you again, you'll be sporting that big bushy red beard and have an enormous belly-laugh and a bear hug for us all.
Happy birthday, Dad. So much love to you always. And thanks for being my Dad.
Originally Posted On Facebook.
Much has happened in this past year. I know you're aware. The family grew with the birth of Averie, a little burst of giggly glee. And Lily and Alex and Forrest are growing up so much and becoming such amazing people.
We talk about you often. And I think you'll be happy to know that it no longer brings instant tears. Quite often, it brings up those doubled-over, uncontrollable laughs that wrinkle our faces and turn them red. I suppose we cry, then, too. But, for a different reason. The laughter is shaking them out. And sometimes the memory does strike a particularly deep chord and there's no helping it. But, you've always understood that. I can remember more than a few occasions when your eyes filled with that bittersweet salty water of memory.
I still cannot believe that it's been over 6 years since we've seen you.
Your phone number is still in my cellphone. I don't know how to bring myself to erase it. Maybe in the next year someone will figure out a way to make contact with the beyond. So, I'll keep it. I'll keep the mementos, too. The coffee maker, the Browns mug.
Someone once said, "Time heals all wounds." I think that's close to being true. Time heals most wounds. But, I know there's always going to be a longing for you, Pop. You mean too much to Kip, Ellie, Sadie, Mom and I. I'm always going to see you in football games. I'm always going to be able to look out at the ocean and think of you cruising on the USS Virginia or the Yellowstone. And we'll always feel like we did when we were waiting for you to return home, knowing that when we see you again, you'll be sporting that big bushy red beard and have an enormous belly-laugh and a bear hug for us all.
Happy birthday, Dad. So much love to you always. And thanks for being my Dad.
Originally Posted On Facebook.
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