Bill Zuckert

15 December 1915-23 January 1997

23 January

Two years ago today, my father died.

I remember holding his hand as he died, and afterwards, and not wanting to let go, because I knew that I'd never get to hold his hand again. My Da had great hands--very big and calloused, and bruised, because as he got older he had that thing where the slightest tap would make a bruise. I remember when I was a little girl, my hands were so small compared to his. I always really liked to hold his hand.

It's really hard to think that I will never get to again, ever ever ever. I can see his face in pictures, I can hear his voice in recordings, I can talk to him in my head, I can remember things and tell stories, but that's it.

My father was the most wonderful man in the whole world.

I know that I'm Daddy's girl, so I'm a little biased, but I know how lucky I was to have him for 32 whole years. He was the most fun, the smartest, the most talented, the funniest, the most down to earth man in the world, and I am not looking to marry a man just like him, because I could never be that lucky.

And it's not just me, you know, everybody loved him. There were, what, twenty people who spoke at his memorial service, and over a hundred people were there, and everybody was telling stories about how funny he was, and how great, and how much they would always miss him.

But no-one misses him as much as I miss him. Well, except for Mom, but you know what I mean. Most of the time I can think of him and it's fine, but sometimes, like now, I miss him so intensely that I can feel it in every cell, every atom.

When I was home for Christmas, it wasn't as though I forgot he was dead or anything, but sometimes I would be in the upstairs hallway and I would turn the corner and get to the top of the stairs and the picture in my head of the way that the den was supposed to look included my Da sitting in his chair.

But he wasn't, of course. I didn't really expect him to be, either, but it was just the way things were supposed to be, you know? But not anymore.

I miss you, Daddy. I'll see you in heaven.

The first Christmas picture, 1965,
and the last Christmas picture, 1996.

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Last Updated Sat 23 January 12:01:09 1999