ई मिस

I miss Papa.

Today at the grocery store, we saw a man in a hat that looked like his. Even little things like that triggers remembering, realizing that he is gone.

We used to debate plots of plays, artistically critisizing director's choices long after the curtain had fallen, sitting on long afternoons juggling back and forth why were they waiting for Godot anyway? I loved Beckett - he preferred Ibsen. Discussing a single line of Shakespeare was punished with a rewarding history lesson that I would later use in a paper for class that I would proudly get an A on. He taught me so much.

I miss his playful sense of humor. We would plot together how to sneak potato chips before dinner without Gram finding out. He would make up words to songs, my sister and I in tears from laughing so hard. He would make up stories about people we saw at the beach. He would dress the dog up in a raincoat. We loved him so much.

I will miss his hugs, his honest interest in how school was going, his habit of falling asleep doing crossword puzzles in his chair, his advice he would give whether you wanted it or not, his silly toasts, his serious speeches, his plaid shirts and glasses.

I miss him so much.