A Dozen

“It’s ok.”

–     The last words Dick Heston said to me, 12-years and one day ago

A dozen eggs seem like a lot, if you’re making an egg bake or a casserole or four omelets for your family.  One egg is ok, if you just want an egg sandwich.

A dozen points seems like a lot, if you’ve got the ball, it’s late in the game and it looks like you might score again.  One point is ok, if you’ve got the ball, there’s one play left and you can just take a knee.

A dozen years seems like a lot if it’s how long your dad has been gone.  One minute seems like a lot if you could just have it to spend with him.  How cool would THAT be?

Twelve years later — he still makes a difference, and motivates me to try to do the same, minute by minute.

I had to leave the day before he passed, to take my wife and two kids, the second of which carries Dad’s name, back to Wisconsin.  He knew I didn’t want to leave, but he also knew that fathers have to do what is right for their families, and so he told me that “It’s ok.”

Twelve years later — it is, in fact, ok.  It’s great, candidly, except for missing a man who always made it better than ok.