Spring Wind

I don't know if a day goes by that I don't think about my father. Sometimes his death is most pronounced in the statement by our five year old, "Grandpa John liked playing stickers with me" and sometimes it is in the spring wind rushing the trees or the smell of rain on the pavement. I wish he could be here to enjoy it all. The changing of the seasons always reminds me of the life he is missing. He should be here witnessing them. My life would be better if he were here. He deserved life and the tears that I cry for him are knowing how much he would have enjoyed all of this; kids, animals, travel and even rainy pavement.