Hey Dad,

I just threw dinner in the oven and have about forty-five minutes until it's done, so I thought I'd very wisely spend those minutes writing to you. Can you believe I've actually been cooking lately? On a regular basis? I know you would have scolded me for just now getting dinner in the oven, but I didn't get home until 5:30 and, besides, Nic doesn't mind. He's pretty easy to please. Also, I believe he grew up in one of those weirdo families who didn't eat supper at 3:30 every day. Yesterday I made tater tot hotdish and thought of you, of course. I'll never understand how that was a favorite meal of yours (or Chuck's). I hate to have to tell you this, but it's kind of bland. I hope God makes a mean tater tot hotdish though, just for you. There has to be food in heaven, there just has to. I can't imagine how they could advertise it as paradise without lots of food.

Today at work, the contract your union settled on came up in conversation. Yeah, not a good deal. That was very clearly confirmed for me. What a bunch of morons. You were way too smart for them. I'm so happy you got fired up and tried to tell them how stupid they were.

I find myself with lots of work stories I want to tell you. Red was jealous when I got a job with the county because you and I had that in common and could talk for hours about it. Whenever the other conversation ran out (which was seldom), one of us always had some good stories to tell about mutual acquaintances. Who the hell am I going to tell those stories to now? I obviously can't post them here for you because I learned the hard way that people can actually get here via search engine. I'm not even going to get into that.

Speaking of Red, she cries a lot more than I do about losing you. I guess it's not such a big surprise. She has always cried more than me in general. I'm just not a crier. As I told her, I often feel overwhelmingly sad and cannot go more than a couple minutes without thinking about you, but there aren't a ton of tears most days. I'm more often angry than sad and I don't cry when I'm mad. I throw things. And kick things. And say really obscene words. At a really high volume.

The other night, Red had a dream that she went to church with you and on the way home from church, you told her that you no longer are eating your peanut butter toast. When she asked you why, of course it was health-related. It was always health-related. What a fucking waste. I hope in heaven the peanut butter is chunky and the toast is whole wheat (not because it's healthy, because you preferred whole wheat; that white stuff doesn't have any flavor!) Then she woke up and though about you tapping your butter knife on the counter as you waited for your toast to finish. Then she cried her eyes out. I'm crying now just thinking about it.

A couple days ago, I sent Red the lyrics to "In My Life," the song I had picked out for our dance at my wedding reception. The words in that song are as true now as they were the day I picked it out. Red had never heard them before but, after reading them over and over again (and crying, of course), she downloaded the song and I think she listens to it often. She told me the hardest thing for her in the hospital, the one moment that always makes her lose her shit when she thinks of it, was the night before you officially died, when we were standing at your bedside telling you stories and I said, "You need to get better so you can walk me down the aisle, Dad. I picked out the song for our father/daughter dance." Now, of course, there will be no father/daughter dance. Nick better damn well believe he's not going to steal that song away for his mother/son dance.

Red is coming to Duluth tomorrow. She says she doesn't really want to move up here now that you're gone, but I hope she eventually does. She's planning on spending the next three weekends here and it would be nice if we could hang out, maybe go up to Tower once in a while, without having to worry about getting her on a bus at 8am Sunday mornings. That's right, they canceled the late bus. What a bummer, right? I know you would have been disappointed about that. Maybe not as disappointed as Red, but still disappointed.

Luckily, this will not be one of those weekends when Red needs to be on the 8am bus on Sunday. Gretchen is coming to town on Saturday afternoon to do a little wedding dress shopping. There is a bridal expo at the DECC that day and Christina has the day off, so I figured what the hell? Might as well try to make the most of the day. So, Red, Christina, Nic's mom and I are going to go to the bridal expo and then head over to Superior to do some dress shopping. A whole day of wedding planning excitement. Then I have all day Sunday to hang out with the girls too. Hopefully it will all work out as planned. If there's one thing I've learned in the last month, there are no guarantees that anything will work out the way it should.

We got another email yesterday from Uncle John. I'm thinking about posting them here, just so I never lose track of them. I'm a strong believer in saving shit where all I need to remember is the url. Hello, flickr! As long as I keep paying my $25 a month, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if I lose the pictures on my hard drive...not that I would love for that to happen, but having them online provides me with a little added peace of mind. Maybe tomorrow I'll post John's memories.

I almost just ended this with "see you soon" but man, I hope not. As much as I really would love to see you soon, I'm not ready for the big buffet in the sky yet. I have lots of work left to do down here.

Love,
Angie