It's been a long time since we've talked. I do miss our Sunday phone calls.The unconditional happiness in your voice when your heard me at the other end makes me realize now how deeply I do miss you. Most of us don't give much thought to how really profound the gap left in our lives when our parents pass away. No one will ever quite love me or think of me or do the things for me in the same way.
Anyway, Susie and I are back in Providence, again, after another whirlwind trip to Paris. As you probably already know, she's working as a pastry chef at one of the city's better restaurants. She works incredibly hard -- it's in her blood -- for little money but she gets to do a lot of her own thing. And her own thing is to make absolutely scrumptious desserts. You would most certainly be pleased with the outcome of a day's work in her kitchen to be sure.
As for me, I think you'd be proud of how things have turned out. I'm actually working doing something I like and getting paid for it. It all has to do with computers, photographs, and that sort of thing; not your cup of tea so I won't bore with your details. But I'm trying to follow your last instructions: "Have a happy life, Steve."
I think you'd be proud of your two sons. By now you know how your story ends; or rather at least this part of it, the part we can see and feel and touch. I just know, and I think Don would agree, that the other part of the story, the part we can't see or touch or feel, is beyond our understanding but we both sense you're having a grand time with all those who went before you: Mom, Jack, Carma, Gene, and so many others whose lives you participated in and the smiles and laughter will always ring true with me.
I miss you pop but will always be profoundly grateful to have had your for my father, my dad. You're still the greatest person I know, or ever will know.