Remembering Dad

I've been looking through pictures all day trying to find one of dad that I really like. I kept coming back to this one. It's a picture of dad in his glory. He was the center of the universe for a few seconds. He couldn't wait for us to get to Arizona and ride into the park with our bikes. I swear that he spent the day telling everyone who would listen (and some who wouldn't) about our visit and that we'd be on Harley's. Once we arrived he had to get out his "bike" and join us. He had a good life. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. He had a good life. He really did have a good life. Right up until the end. When he sensed that there was no more hope he was ready to go. He didn't want to suffer and he didn't want to hang around if life wasn't worth living. He would have hated being in a nursing home, or being home bound or unable to be himself and do what he wanted to do. He had a good life. He wasn't rich and he wasn't famous, but he had a good life. He enjoyed his family, his friends, his work and he had fun. I still expect to see him sometimes. I actually forget that he is gone. I'm sorry he got sick and I'm sorry he is gone, but I'm glad that he had a good life. He worked hard and played hard and make people laugh. He had a good life.
Today is the one year anniversary of his death. In some ways it seems like yesterday and in others it seems like a long time ago. I miss him and I wish he was still with us. When he was getting really sick and we all knew it wouldn't be long until we lost him I screwed up the courage to "have a talk" with him before he died. There were things I wanted to say and wasn't sure how to say them. I had a chance one afternoon when he was still pretty alert and I was alone with him at the trailer. I told him I loved him and that he was a good dad. I will never forget what he said. First he said "I tired to be a good dad" and then he said "I had a good life".