Today marks 10 years since my dad’s death. I can’t say he passed away because to me that phrase conjures images of peace and calm. Instead his death was pure shock. He was just gone. He had pants from Lands End sitting on his dresser he hadn’t even tried on; they had arrived the day before. So much has changed and so many great things have happened. And while his absence has gotten easier to manage, it’s not any less sad. More than anything I wish he got the chance to retire and be a Grandpa. And what kind of a grandfather would he be? Would hold and feed them as babies? Would he relay awful jokes? Would he bring them impossible math problems to solve? Would he insist to me that the learn to drive a standard transmission? Would his dancing have improved? Would he approve of our year away? I wonder what Michael and Peter would like about him and if any of it would be the same stuff I liked. I wonder what he would tell the boys about himself that I never knew.