Today is the 24th anniversary of my dad's death. I'll never forget being awakened from a sound sleep by the ringing of the phone that morning 24 years ago. Mom called from the hospital with the news. I remember being in total shock. I knew dad was sick, but in my naiveté I never thought dad would actually die. Up to that point everybody that I knew that had died was old. My dad was not old and in my flawed logic dad was not going to die. God had a different plan. 24 years later I know many people even younger than dad who have passed away.
I always think about dad on August 31st. I sure do miss him.
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