How’d you do it?

Papa, 

That’s what our boy calls me now. I hadn’t said it out loud since you went ahead. It feels natural, like I was born for it. It has a nice ring to it, too.

I’m thinking of you today. I’m stuck in an airport and I’m going to miss story time. I’m having a hard time keeping it together. I think the bartender noticed, and luckily he’s very kind. 

Pudi’s getting married in a month. That’s why I was away - in Montreal. It was his bachelor party (don’t worry, I behaved. I always do, especially now). I think you would like that place, because it is quiet, people are friendly, and there is water. I can’t remember if you’ve been there.  Maybe Ma will know. I guess it doesn’t really matter now.

I have been wanting to ask you a question. As I sit here, I’m a wreck and only because I’m going to miss story time. That’s a good reason, I guess. But still, it’s a small moment in life. 

How’d you do it?  

You overcame so much in your life. You persisted through some of the hardest challenges I’ve ever heard of. You were a good man, an honest man, the whole way. Your capacity to sacrifice - what I’m starting to see as the noblest of all virtues - was seemingly limitless.

How’d you do it? 

You were so devoted, until the very last day of your life. You hardly ever let me down, especially on things that really mattered. And you never let me off the hook either. Even still, I feel like I’m learning lessons from you.

How’d you do it? 

And on top of all this, I didn’t even know you were molding me, shaping me. You made me think I did it myself. You never took a curtain call, never allowed anyone to give you credit. 

I feel like an imposter sometimes, like I missed getting that gene. Especially on days like today, where I feel like something so small is making me crumble.

But you just did it Pops. How? 

Wish you were here, 

Neil