I'm glad it was me.

 Dear John,

   The panic is receding, the fear of this new landscape where I live.

I don't cry in Kroger anymore because I don't go there. No checkouts, just scans, my Irish fanny. How do you scan a cucumber? My gas is now pumped by me, how many things did you do that I never acknowledged? I am taking a pitiful amount of pride in doing these small things.

 T.J. Called, he had no idea you had left us. He said he came to America because of John Wayne and you were like him. You will be thrilled to know that his grandson is a priest. The Duke not T.J. Your old work friends are shattered.

 In your view, the kids always came first and they are doing exactly would a great Dad would expect. I know you are proud. There is nothing I need that they will not help me with.

In 1998, I had a strange dream .I walked into a room and saw that you had been knocked down by a priest. I saw the Roman collar and started yelling :"Why don't you pick him up." I had another dream once where we both were captured and the miscreants said I could go to safety but not you. There is no way I would leave you behind in that dream or ever.

This is a roundabout way of saying  that I am glad it was me left here. I am glad it is me suffering your loss.  You were a wonderful, holy man (except for the language arts) and you deserved a happy last day and smooth passage to the next place. It would kill me to think of you ever suffering and so we go on, the family and I. 

Remember singing "You'll Never Walk Alone" in June at Mass with that amazing priest in Phoenicia ? We know you are with us and we will live somehow, knowing that.