Today is the fifth anniversary of my Dad's death.

Five. Years.

Some days I can't believe it's been that long.

I will never forget the October when he was acting a bit strange and couldn't complete his tasks at work anymore. I will never forget the day we took him to a neurologist and were told he had all the symptoms of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease aka Transmissible Spongiform Encephalopathy which had no cure, no real treatment, and no guarantee how much time one could live with the disease. I will never forget how Mom and I took care of him as he wasn't able to do for himself. And I will never forget the day he died and the snow that fell as I followed the ambulance to the hospital.

But these aren't the memories that are always with me.

Mostly when I think of my dad I remember his laugh and how much he loved me. He wasn't a perfect man by any means, but he was is my dad and I know that although he isn't here physically, he's still been there through all the important times I've had in the past five years:

I've received my Bachelor's degree, got my first real job just weeks after finishing school, fallen in love, quit that first job to move abroad, completed my Master's degree, and got married. 

I would have loved nothing more than to hear his loud, booming voice cheering for me at graduation. Or to have him give my now husband the third degree when he came to visit. Or had him walk me down the aisle this past August.

My bouquet with my dad on the left and Kevin's Mom on the right as a visual reminder of those in our hearts

But no matter how much I miss him, I am so thankful to have had him be a (frustrating at times, but a) really great dad for 22 years of my life.

I love you Daddy.