When I was a junior in High School, I tried out for Homecoming Queen. Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I have no musical talent, I'm totally uncoordinated, and lacking all stageworthy talents. I memorized a poem and dressed up like a grubby little kid. The poem was all about the scary things that go bump in the night and how I wasn't scared because I could always climb in bed with dad. I looked for it and I can't find it. I didn't even place, but my dad was in the audience cheering for me and that was enough. I wore my prom dress for the formal part of the contest. It was before my prom so I was a little bummed out to have to debut my prom dress early but my dad died before my prom. I chose to sit out the traditional father/daughter dance. Sometimes I think back at the courage it took for me to try out for homecoming queen when I was certain I didn't stand a snowball's chance in Hades. I searched my dad's eyes for some sign of disappointment that I'd lost but I never saw it. I think he was truly proud of me that I tried. I remember little things like that about him. I remember what he smelled like and what his hands looked like. I think how hard it was to lose him when I hadn't really had a chance to know him yet. But there came a time that I watched people age and suffer to various degrees and I am grateful I never saw him like that. In my mind and my heart he looks just like he does in that picture. I have learned to treasure the moments I had and not resent the ones I never did. I miss you, dad. You'd love the girls so much. And they would love you. I wonder what horrendous nickname they'd each be called by. Happy Father's Day Hockenshnocker! I love you.
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