I’m so sorry, Baker.
My goodness, Baker. What a sad day…and what a lovely post.
My peace to you, your mother and the rest of your family.
I’m so, so sorry. In January it will be 30 years since I lost my dad, and I still miss him.
Your dad sounds like an awesome fellow!
I’m so sorry for your loss. He sounds wonderful.
Oh…my dear Baker…I’m so sorry to hear this!
Grieving is a very personal, unique experience. A good friend of mine lost someone just last week, and today was the first time we had a chance to really talk…parts of the afternoon were poingent. Parts were the usual joking around. Parts were full of tears. It’s different for each person, and each moment. Cherish the memories…and share them with those you care about.
{{Baker}}
Dear Baker, I am very sorry for your loss.
Sorry for your loss.
I’m sorry for your loss, Baker. When the tears do come, let them flow. Give into them, it will be freeing. I hope your faith gives you comfort and strength.
I’m so sorry for your loss Baker. 
Oh, twin, so sorry – wishing peace and strength to all who loved your father.
Baker fwiw, I attended the nine o’clock Lutheran (wrong flavor of Lutheran I know) service this morning and offered prayers for your father and the family during Prayers of The People.
I am so sorry for your loss. My father has been gone for just under two years. I still miss him. I can still hear his voice (in my head) and his “Hi baby! Just called to see how you’re doing” greeting when he called me on the phone.
Don’t worry about holding it in; we all grieve differently and at different times. It will sneak up on you, but that’s okay.
Sending good thoughts to you and the family. I hope you find peace in happy memories of him.
So sorry for your loss, Baker.
Baker, sorry for your loss. Your dad sounds like quite a guy.
Very sorry for your loss. Your Dad sounds like a really good guy.
I’ll tell you all about my Dad and the real estate manager. See, Dad raised three girls, and always tried to be proper in front of us, no swearing, and so on.
I used to wonder where MY ornery impulses came from.
Well, at one point my dad had to sell the house we did most of our growing up in. I don’t know exactly how it was handled, but at the closing my Dad had to have about $2000 dollars, to cover some gap in prices. He was going to write a personal check, but the manager said he to have a certified check, not a personal one. Dad took this as a slight, implying that his signature wasn’t good enough.
So at the time of closing, when the office manager asked for the money, Dad produced a sack and upended it on the guy’s desk. It was full of ones and fives Dad had got at the bank, and taken out of their sleeves. We were told by Dad that his one mistake was not taking the money back when the guy got red in the face and screamed he wouldn’t take it like that. He’d refused legal tender, after all.
So then I learned why I am like I am.
My condolences to you and your family
My condolences, Baker.
Walker, it is your steps
that are the road, nothing more.
Wanderer, there is no road,
you build the road as you walk.
As you walk you build the road
and when you turn to look back
you see a long path which you
will never walk over again.
Wanderer, there is no road,
only trails across the waves.
(Antonio Machado, Caminante no hay camino, translation mine and don’t ask me why it sprang to mind)
My condolences Baker. May you and your family find some peace in the coming days.
kam
I’m so, so sorry you lost your Daddy, honey. You & yours will be in my prayers. (Plus also, I’d like to hear some more stories, when you can)