I Have No Title For This

So this is what a broken heart feels like. The physical pain in my chest is more than I can bear. It hurts. Really hurts.

My dad ended his journey exactly how he would have wanted. He was skiing at Winter Park Resort with my brothers and mom, and died at the top of the Mary Jane mountain in the arms of my brother. His skis were still on his feet. My other brother was there also, and my mom was in the lodge at the bottom of the mountain. If it had to happen, it could not have been more perfect. He was only 55.


I’ve been trying to write up the perfect post. I’m finding it’s impossible to sum up my dad’s life in a blog post. So I’m choosing to remember my dad by listing all the things he loved, in no particular order.

Iowa State Cyclones, Chicago Bears, Chicago Cubs, National Public Radio, science fiction, reading, Sunday movies with mom, trips to Colorado, my sons’ sporting events, family NCAA tournament pools, movie O Brother Where Art Thou, sleepovers with his grandsons, Willie Nelson, vacations, holidays, boating, men’s golfing league, the tiki bar at The Port, his skid loader, his dump truck, daily phone calls with his boys, working with me, tailgating, family gatherings, movie The Big Lebowski, golf trips with his brothers, Star Wars, The Band, Saturday Night Live, watching old family videos, strange types of beer, any type of party, card nights in Nick’s garage, and many other things I can’t think of right now.

I’m forever changed. I’m no longer the innocent person I was last Friday morning. Life is precious, friends. Hug those around you and tell them you love them. Treat each day as a blessing.

I know you loved me, Dad. And I’m positive you knew you were loved. Thanks for everything.