one year.

my dad died one year ago today.

my only dad.

I'm trying not to think

of how much pain he was in,

of how little we talked

in the year before he died,

of all the drama and disrespect

that went on in the last week of his life,

perpetrated by his own family, no less.

I'm thinking of the things I learned from him

and the good times we had together.

Like camping.

My dad had everything

you could ever imagine you'd need.

We lived like kings

(only in tents).

His love of music.

Singing Joe Cocker, Ray Charles

and Creedence as he took me

to high school in the morning.

His cooking

and his gardening.

what I wouldn't do

for a tomato from his garden

or his pickled green beans.

Or how

when I was a very little girl,

he would run his fingers through my hair

and put me right to sleep.

How he thought I was so

smart and funny and beautiful

and a much greater person

than I'll ever be.

And what I almost forgot

in those last few years:

how much he loved me.