Randolph Wayne Dorey

I haven't posted since before my dad passed away. I haven't really had anything to post about.
It's funny in that horribly unfunny way how all the interest, the flavour is just sucked out of life after. Regaining balance is a bitch. It happens in little starts and stops, little spurts, jags of mending, fixing, repairing, cleaning, archiving...
I miss him a lot. His constancy, his sense of humour, his reliability, his presence, his morality, all those ways he showed his love.
So writing this is another one of those hurdles to get over afterwards, one more of those "I haven't done this since before..." instances. But I do it because I think he would want me to, and I do it knowing that it's not a way to put him further behind where I am now but instead a way to remember him more, to bring him with me as I keep going.
I love you, Dad.