missing Dad...

It's no secret that fall is my favorite season. I relish all the different parts of fall that are a feast for the senses - from the nip in the air that calls for warm, cozy sweaters and the vibrant blazes of color throughout the trees to the crisp, nutty smells of the falling leaves and the hearty, rich savory flavors that abound in this season: pumpkin spice, winter squash, hearty soups, etc.

But fall also now brings with it a sense of sorrow with the ever present reminder of my father's death. It's hard to believe that it has now been three years since what will remain to be one of the very worst days of my life. I can recall moments of the day as clear as if they were yesterday - from the mundane events of the morning leading up to that phonecall to the grief-stricken moments that ensued after.

I try not to dwell on the moments of that day, but they have impacted my life and who I am. I do, however, try to remember the good things about my father - the things that made him the joyful, caring, thoughtful, intelligent man he was. Sometimes I fear that I'm forgetting the details that defined him - what his voice sounded like, what his hugs felt like, what his smile looked like.

But as I was driving to Dunkin Donuts this morning to grab some coffee and bagels (because we literally have nothing to eat in the house - we'll have to get much better at that once this baby comes along) and I was thinking about my father, memories of things that I had all but forgotten popped back into my mind. I remembered riding on the back of the fat-wheeled dirt bike with Dad in Michigan; sitting on the couch with Dad and listening to Zac Brown Band's first-released cd from start to finish (he loved music he could tap his feet to); having Dad pick me up from a sleepover at a friend's house in the middle of the night when I wasn't feeling good.

I remember Dad's silly moments (which anyone could guess outnumber his other moments) from performing to Dueling Banjo's with Josh at one of the Knapper family reunions with synchronized flashlights up their noses, to telling silly (mostly inappropriate) jokes and making goofy faces.

I remember working with Dad on my days off or during the summer, learning the value of hard work and earning my pay, doing back-breaking work like picking up wheelbarrow-full loads of shingles from a roofing project, cleaning up the sawdust and other garbage that inevitably gets left behind from any contracting project, sanding down drywall and painting. It's these moments - silly and life-defining alike - that helped define me and shape me into the person I am today.

What brings new sadness now is that our son won't get to share these same types of both silly and impactful experiences with his grandfather; I won't get to see that twinkle in my father's eye at the sight of his newest grandson and see a relationship form between them like the one that I treasure with my own grandfather. This is what makes me sad and makes me question anew the reasons behind facts of life such as this; makes me question what God's ultimate plan is in life and why we have to lose the ones we love.

Thankfully, my father passed on the joy and thoughtfulness that he exhibited on a daily basis to us, his kids, and I am eager to pass on his legacy to our children. Although they won't know him by his embrace or his laugh or by holding his hand, they'll know him by the values and faith we share.