Dear Daddy,

You've been gone for two years now, as of Tuesday. We still dream about you, see signs of you everywhere. The loss still hurts, but your random messages help us through. I see all of your 'elevens', the angel numbers.

Your mother is overcoming pneumonia, at 96 she's still part part sugar, part solid rock. She scares me when she sees you in dreams. I know how much  she misses you.

Your brother Arnold is fine. I watch him especially carefully, and now I can see the ache in his bones when he walks.

Mom and my sister are fine. Today I found them the perfect apartment--only twenty minutes away from me, in a community built for convenience with a bus stop outside and a shopping center next door. There's a grocery store, a clinic, an optometrist, a bakery and much more. The apartment is on the ground floor, so Mom never has to worry about stairs or if the elevator breaks down. Oh, and it's huge!

I have a new job. It's part time and intimidating. I like it. It allows me unusual freedoms--like allowing me to make my own schedule, so I can help mom and Jody move and I can help take care of things. The troll is working too, so we're okay.

Your loss was so painful, so profound. I remember who reached out, and why. Now I use my experience to reach back whenever I can. It's odd how something so terrible can bring so many interesting and wonderful changes. We're recovering. We're growing again.

I'm still trying to write, but these days it's mostly editing. I know now it will be okay. I know soon things will be as normal as they can be in light of the circumstances. I know someday soon, I'm going to breathe again and I'll find the peace I need to create once more.

You may be gone, but you'll always be a part of us. We're already recovering our strength.