Hey, Dad

Does it go without saying that I miss you? Because I do. Not every second of every day. But usually at an unexpected time, some sound or smell or song or movie or whatever will remind me of you. Lots of times it brings a smile to my face. Other times, it makes me want to cry. 

Over the past couple of years I kept wanting to tell you about everything you are missing out on. 
You were right. I had a baby boy. He's two now. He likes cheese and dancing (among many other things). We have taken him camping and hiking, and I have you to thank for teaching me to love the outdoors and the joys of camping (even in all the extreme weather conditions we seemed to attract).
We have had weddings. And sibling reunions. And the cutest little Brasilian Johnson you have ever seen. We have had graduations and growth. Lots of mundane changes. Lots of extreme changes. A lot of crying and a lot of laughing. And you are missing it. That makes me deeply sad.
But the more I thought about that, the more I realized that you aren't the one missing out. It's us. We are missing you. You aren't missing out at all. You are in the presence of your Savior, and there is no better place to be. 
I often look at life as it is now for all of us and wonder if you would like it. I miss your place in it all. I think the biggest thing I miss is your hugs (even if the perpetual pen in your pocket would stab me in the face). 

It's probably weird writing a letter to you, because I don't think you will read it. But for whatever it's worth, it makes me feel better. 

Love, Lizzy

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