Dear Dad,

I've decided I'm just going to pretend I'm on my mission again.

And I'll write to you every week.

Although, it won't be like my real mission because mom used to break the rules and call me sometimes. On my birthday. And on Thanksgiving. And when she found out you had cancer. And once when there was an earthquake. I think that pretty much covers it. My companions always told me I shouldn't talk to her but I did anyway. It's the only rule I ever broke.

Well, that one and the 30 minute/day music rule. Sometimes I'd listen for a whole hour. I figured an hour of the Mo Tab wasn't really breaking the rules.

Anyway, Husband and I went home to Ruby Valley this past week.

You know, all the sounds are still the same.

The tractor goes by. The 4-wheeler goes by. The truck goes by.

And I think, "There goes dad."

But it's not you.

It's Jared or Tyler.

And every time it's kind of like I'm realizing for the first time that you're gone.

Mom and I went on a walk every day. And we waved at the top of the mountain on the little spiky part where mom says you and Carolyn hang out. I hope you saw us. We waved really big. Mom said she's mad and sad you and Carolyn get to be together. I am, too. But I didn't say it out loud.

On our walk, we saw a big badger poking it's head out of the culvert at the top of the hill. Mom wanted to stop and look but I made her keep moving. Because Jared said for every 1,000 foot increase in elevation you lose 2% of your lung capacity. Which meant I was already down 12.5% and by 12.5% I really mean 56% and I didn't think I could outrun an angry badger and I didn't really want him to rip me to shreds.

We picked the apples off Grandma Neff's tree. We sure could have used your help. Mom said last year you climbed the tree and pushed the top branches down. Instead Nancy had to climb. And I held the bucket underneath her. And sometimes when she dropped the apples she hit me in the head. But it's ok. Because I would do just about anything for some of mom's apple pie.

And guess what else we did. We ate all the foods you hate. Foods like onions and garlic. And medium rare hamburgers. And tortillas. And we took mom to eat at Chef Chang's. But we're not going there again because it made Husband sick. While we were doing it, the only thing I could think of was when we used to eat ketchup and you would tell us that eating ketchup would kill us.

Ian, Cameron, and I ran down the horse pasture. Except Jared had moved the water so we were really just running through manure mud. Ian prayed for you at night. He said, "Bless Grandpa that he died." I giggled.

Mom cancelled The Mountain Sports Network on her Dish Network. She said she was thinking about keeping it. I asked her if she was going to become a BYU football fan. Finally. After all these years. She said maybe. I thought it was funny. Because mom doesn't know the first thing about football.

I told her I would get her a cardboard cut out of you to sit on the couch. She said she would rather have a Paul Neff Fathead. We both laughed because we knew you would think we were being irreverent.

I sure do miss you, dad. I keep hoping maybe I'll see you somewhere.

Love,

Erin

PS If you run into Billy Mays up there, please ask him if he believed in all the products he sold on TV. Because I bought some Kaboom the other day and it didn't remove any hard water stains like he said it would. Please tell him liars go to the bad place.