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Two Years

Yesterday was the second anniversary of my stepfather, Pat’s, death. That it’s been two years already is ridiculous to me. The first couple months after he was gone seemed to take forever, and since then time has just flown by. It’s both sad and comforting to see that happen. Time stops for no one and it’s so sad that he is missing out on so many things. I got married! He would absolutely have loved how we did it too – low key, totally casual, and a BBQ on the 4th of July. It doesn’t get more Pat than that. I know he misses his granddaughter and he would have loved tormenting my kids when they finally show up.

At the same time, life DOES go on. I got married! I’m building my own family and exploring my life in new ways. I moved around the world and it is definitely a difference experience. He would have been proud to see me go off on my own and live MY life the way I want to. He was big on striking out on your own staying true to who you are.

The funniest part about my new life is how Mr. Lyndsy occasionally does or says something that reminds me of Pat. There are phrases he uses and hand gestures he makes, and I would swear that he is channeling Pat’s spirit. Mr. Lyndsy has a passionate love of football (soccer) and when he watches games it is quite a bit like watching Pat watch a Steeler game, particularly when the team isn’t doing well. For some reason the losses upset him more than the wins excited him. In this way, I feel like Pat’s still with me. Makes me love Mr. Lyndsy all that much more too.

This past weekend was total shit. I was sick. This anniversary was looming. And then I lost my little dog Buddy. He was the sweetest and happiest dog I’ve ever seen. He was ferocious when he thought he was protecting one of his hoomanz or his friend Lily (or other girl dogs), well, as ferocious as a 10-pound ball of fluff can be.

The only consolation I have is that the way I see it, Buddy and Pat are off playing somewhere together. Buddy might have driven Pat crazy on occasion, but if Pat could be friends with my guinea pig Orpheus Offenbach, he would have enjoyed Buddy. I’d be willing to bet there’s a recliner somewhere with Pat in it, Buddy nestled in between Pat and the arm, Buddy listening while Pat acts as a commentator on the Steeler game, occasionally barking in agreement.

I won’t miss either of them any less as time goes on, but I like thinking that they’re hanging out together.

Buddy Pat

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