Happy Fathers Day

Dear Dad,

Well, another Father’s Day is here.  To be quite honest, I usually forget about Father’s Day because I have no reason to celebrate it.  I find myself getting jealous and resentful of my friends who have a father to shower gifts upon [even though I am broke and would probably just buy you one of those tacky Pink Floyd ties, anyway.]  Anyways, real reason I’m writing?  I have a bone to pick with you.

So I was looking through our records the other day, and found a BOSTON record!  I was so impressed, I didn’t even know you liked Boston!  Then I noticed it was the second album.  Come on, dude.  The second album?  The one with the ever sappy “Amanda” single on it?  Why do you have the second album and not the first?  Did you take it with you?  I guess I can’t really imagine a heaven without Boston.  Oh, and thanks for leaving me every Neil Diamond record ever made. Especially Heartlight.  Whatever would I do without that album?

Heh, you know I’m kidding.  I actually do like Neil Diamond.  Kind…of. …..It’s not like I turn him off when he comes on the car radio, even though sometimes I sort of do?  I know you hijack my radio whenever I go driving, so quit forcing me to listen to “Cherry, Cherry!”

I saw Eddie Money play at a free festival last night, and I have some unfortunate news; Eddie Money has lost his marbles.   I’m serious! And I quote,

“Who wants to go to Mexico with Eddie Money!?!? I have a guest list of 500 fans, we’re all going to Mexico!!!”

So, mind if I go to Mexico?  I mean, I was invited.  Granted he seemed just a tad bit plastered when he made this statement.   And I am also sad to say that he sort of lost his voice.  Energy wise, he still seems to have it.  Though, I don’t understand his stage antics.  Sometimes he’ll grab his head and look at the audience all cah-razy like.

Oh, and I met this boy.  …..Ugh, stop looking at me like that.  On second thought, I don’t want to talk about it.  HRMPH.

In other unsurprising news, you know I miss you.  It’s not the same without ya.  It’s not the same staying up late and listening to music without you, and I miss your punny jokes.  I can no longer think of one off hand.

Sometimes I realize that memories of you are all I have, and I become terrified that I will slowly forget them.  I hope I don’t.  There have been ignorant people who have told me I’ll never see you again, that death is all there is.  But you and I know it’s not really the truth.  The hope of seeing you again in some way keeps me going, and knowing that somehow, you are able to read this letter, fills me with comfort.  Much like the comfort you offered me when you were still here.  No one can steal this hope from me.  Otherwise, you know I’ll kick their ass if they try.  Seriously.  I’m pushy.

I love you with all my heart. I am playing Sweet Caroline just for you  (and yes, I am grumbling through the entire song.)  Have a great fathers day wherever you are, and don’t drink too much scotch.  You know how you get.

And remember, if Olivia Newton John married Isaac Newton, got divorced, and married Elton John, her name would be Olivia Newton-John Newton-John.

-Love always,

Sarah