love, dad

My dad swore that he wouldn't have the time to make a different Valentines Day card every year or that he would forget. So he hand-wrote seventy cards, and tucked them in a drawer and told us every year just to pull out the one with the right date.

My dad died last year while coming home from work. His body was never found. We held a funeral anyways. I cried.

This would be the first Valentines Day without him. When I got home, I was sad. So, since it was the day, I went and got a card. I didn't care what my mother said.

I ran up to my room and plopped on my bed. I opened the envelope, the letter slipping out easily. The first sentence of the letter wasn't as easy to read. Almost impossible to believe he had written it. I wouldn't have believed it if it didn't have his unmistakeable signature at the bottom.

"How is life without me?" It read.