April 12

It is snowing here today. Has been since yesterday. The roads were slick enough to cause cars to end up in the roadside ditch, with wheels spinning and headlights pointing toward the sky.

Two years ago today, or on this date at least, it was sunny. And warm. The flowers were blooming. My allergies were kicking my ass. Golf league was about to start in a few weeks. It almost felt like summer.

I don't remember actually making the phone call. I know that I called for some particular reason. But I don't know what that reason was.

I do remember knowing, at the moment that someone else's voice came on the line, that something was seriously wrong.

I remember walking through the office where I worked at the time, looking for someone. So I could let them know that I had to leave. Right now. I remember I found our paralegal in her office. She offered to drive me but I told her I was okay.

I remember my boss calling my cell while I was on the road alongside the golf course. I have no idea what he said. I remember, later, finding out that he was pissed that I had to leave because we had some big project we were working on.

I think I was wearing a beige suit.

I remember pulling into the neighborhood. There was an ambulance. There were sheriff's cars. There was a crowd of people around the mailboxes. I remember there was a stretcher. I remember not looking.

I remember a group of women standing outside of the condo, like a flock of colorful birds with bright, shiny eyes.

I remember my mother looked like hell.

I remember that they drove the ambulance back to the condo. They let us say goodbye. I remember he didn't look the same. He was wearing shorts and an ugly golf shirt. But not an ugly golf shirt that I'd bought him. A different type of ugly. Not loud-ugly, like I liked. Boring ugly.

I remember my mom kissed him on the cheek. Something I couldn't bring myself to do.

I remember sitting at the kitchen table, going through his telephone book, calling our relatives, his friends, people I'd never spoken to in my life. Now I know that when they heard my voice, they probably felt the same way I did when I called earlier in the day. You don't get those phone calls out of the blue unless something bad has happened.

I remember going home that night and thinking about my mom being all alone.

My dad died two years ago today. On a bright and sunny day unlike today. A day where he got to golf and have lunch with his wife and go out to get the mail and never come back.

I love you, Daddy. I miss you every day.