Here is a short section from a book my Dad use to read to me as a little girl.
The Velveteen Rabbit. When I think of the Rabbit I think of my Dad.
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
Today marks the 26th anniversary of my Dads death. I remember it clear as this day. We got a call my Dad was at the hospital we had no idea he was dead. I was 17 years old and never knew anyone who had died. It was a huge shock. I was a bratty teenage girl and I remember getting in an argument with my father the day before, because he wouldn't let me go to the mall. I told him I hated him. That was the last thing I remember telling him. So you could image how this affected me my entire life. It still does. I have this thing about telling my friends I love them often. If they died the next day I would know that I told them how I felt with kind words. As I write this it brings up the sadness only I can understand.
I know he watches over me and knows I love him and always will. I know I will be with him and my Mom ,and sister and others who pasted away one day.
Make sure you tell someone you love them today. And never end a fight with I hate you. Maybe say I don't like you right now, but I love you always.
I love all of you.
I miss you Daddy ,and I love you always. RIP John C. Corbett.
Your little Peanut.