Email

 Every couple of weeks, I log into my lovely Dad's emails to double-check that nothing important has arrived.  He has two accounts -- one, an ancient AOL account, and a second, a more up-to-date email service provider -- which, when I first took them over, received varying amounts of spam messages.  I've weeded carefully over time, and now the AOL account only receives a handful of messages, with the other email account receiving slightly more (I'm still working on that). 

The hardest part, is the mental image I get when I sit down at my computer to open up the email -- I see in my mind's eye, him sitting at his computer, opening up his email.  It was quintessential Daddy, to sit in front of the computer, sorting his email, doing Mysterious Computer Things.

I miss him, viscerally. Such a good man. A quiet man of genius. And I think about how every now and then, he would ask me if I was doing OK, and how I would always get a lump in my throat when he asked. That rare question, that told me I was Seen, and that would be Heard if I chose to speak. 

I hope you are resting well, Daddy. I'm doing my best to take care of all the paperwork things Earthside, on your behalf. 

I miss you.