One Year Without my Dad

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since I lost my dad. A year without his laugh, his wisdom, his gentle presence. A year of missing the man who was not only my father but my biggest supporter and one of my greatest blessings.

My dad was the kind of man everyone loved. He had a way of making you feel important, like you were the only person in the room when he talked to you. He worked so hard for our family, never complaining, always doing whatever needed to be done to make our lives better. He was humble, kind, and selfless—qualities that made me proud to call him my dad.

After my mom passed, I worried about him. They had been together for 56 years, a lifetime of love and partnership that shaped all of us. Losing her broke his heart, but he amazed me with how he chose to keep living, to keep loving, and to find joy in the life he had left. He carried her memory with him in everything he did, and his strength during that time made me love him even more.

My dad and I always shared a special bond. People often said I looked like him, and I took that as the greatest compliment. One of my favorite memories is of us playing tennis together. He was always cheering me on—from when I was little, just learning to play, all the way through college. But it wasn’t just about the sport—it was about the time we spent together, the laughter, and the way he made me feel like he believed in me completely.

When I became a mom, I saw an entirely new side of my dad. He and my mom would drop everything to help me with the kids, even when their own lives were busy. My dad, who never changed a single diaper when we were little (and who my mom teased relentlessly about it), jumped right in with my babies. He’d change diapers, feed them, and let me nap when I desperately needed rest. The way he loved my kids made me love him even more. Watching him as a grandfather filled my heart in ways I can’t put into words.

This year has been one of the hardest of my life. I’ve felt his absence in a million little moments—the times I’ve wanted to call him, the holidays that felt incomplete, the times I’ve needed his advice or just wanted to hear his voice. But in those moments, I also feel him with me. In the memories we made and in the love he gave so freely.

My dad wasn’t just my father; he was my hero. He showed me what it means to work hard, to love deeply, and to be there for the people who matter most. I’ll carry his love with me every day, in everything I do.

Dad, I miss you more than words can say. I hope you know how much you were loved, how proud I am to be your daughter, and how grateful I am for every moment we shared. You may not be here physically, but you are with me in my heart, always.

Here’s to you, Dad—my biggest supporter, my role model, my forever hero.

Love always and forever,

Aimee💗