I was never much good at goodbyes...

This past Sunday, my dad, Walter Francis Svec, passed away. He was going on 84 years old and had Parkinson's Disease, but the last time I saw him--about a week before--he was pretty lucid and asked me how work was going. I told him, "Busy, but good," and shortly after I said "See you next time." I was surprised to get the call on Sunday from my sister that Dad had drifted off at breakfast--calmly, just as if he had gone to sleep.

It's weird to think he's not here, physically, anymore. I cried a little over the next few days, mostly because my mom and sisters and brother were crying. But still, I didn't have a big crying moment. It's not because I didn't love him, I did. Then, when the coffin was lowered into the ground, I felt it: a wave of sadness, and I just let it out for a little while. I was sad for all of us, but deep down I knew Dad was at peace. Lately, his quality of life had been diminishing dramatically each day due to the Parkinson's. He was lucid, but often couldn't respond or couldn't respond quickly.

I'm thankful for having a good man like him as my father. He was a typical old-school, stoic farmer--a man of few words--but he was a very kind, gentle, loving man and he did everything for his family. I love you, Dad, and I'll miss you.