I’m afraid of the dark. It scares me because I might miss you if you appear in it one night. You might grab my hand and take me with you, to wherever you live now. If I miss out on seeing you because of the darkness bringing unfamiliarity to me, then my heart will break into quarter pieces, as it’s already broken in half.
I’m afraid that I keep missing you. I’ve travelled many parts of this big, wide world looking for your face in a crowd. Hoping that if I seek just the right place, there you’ll be. A global game of hide and seek, except your hiding place is forever unknown to me. It causes me to crave to find you. It causes me to seek out the new and unfamiliar… but not the dark.
I’m afraid of my nightmares, but without them I would never dream of you. Running in fields with you. Being lifted into the air by you, thrown into the water by you, spun around in a dance by you. You always take my hand before the dream ends. You always tell me that you can hear me. You always try to keep me safe.
I’m afraid that part of you lives on in Villa. My protector. My safe place. However, rational thinking kicks in when I have this fear and reminds me that Villa is a dog. Villa approves of everyone in my life. You would have never approved of the people who managed to break my heart into two separate pieces after I had rebuilt it. You would have kept me grounded. You would have kept it whole.
You would have been 59 this year. This day. We would have gone to your sister’s house. She would have made you peanut butter marshmallow squares and a skor-bar cake to celebrate. We would have had a steak dinner for supper. I would have gazed at you with complete adoration; my first love. I would have hugged you tight and told you how I loved you– bigger than the moon. You would have called me Pumpkin, or Poopie Girl, those nicknames would have never changed.
I am not afraid of the day that I see you again. I welcome it. Seeing you has to be on your terms now. It cannot be on mine. Trust me, I’ve tried very hard.
I miss you. I’ll always miss you. I live around the void created by losing you and I know that I will never be able to fill it. I’ve found a beautiful peace in that. If you can hear me, just know I say your name. Every day. Come to me in my dreams. There is where we meet until I see you once again.
cathartic 
Thank you so much for sharing this with me, I always underestimate the breadth of my father’s impact and how his memory lives on through others. I will be sure to tell Shari that you say hello as well! Again, thank you for your words. He was a really great person.
I remember your father well Katie. I worked with him for 6 years at Woodlawn. When I left Saskatoon in 2001 your Dad gave me a framed sketch of the view of the Bessborough Hotel from the east side of the Saskatchewan River. It came from the Mendel Art Gallery where your mom was working. It hangs in our family room. I see it every day and think of him often. It sure was nice to stumble upon this photo of him – just as I remember him. Say ‘hi’ to your mom for me….
Glen Hodges
Vancouver, BC