
My Dad passed away two years ago today.
I miss him terribly. At the same time, right now, I'm feeling very strongly how much he's really, truly not gone. It's cliche. It's not a thing that would have comforted me when grief was newer. But right now, it feels true: there's a very real sense in which Dad lives on in me, in Sean, in Mom, and in all of us whom he loved so well. Like I said in my eulogy for him, so much of what's good and lovable in me comes from Tom Croghan.
I'm grateful for you today, Dad. Thank you.
All my love,
Mike
Just a personal web journal, often on theological topics. It's "rude" in three senses: "crude" in that I have little formal theological training; "offensive" in that the things I write unintentionally tick folks off sometimes, and "rough" in the form of occasional spicy language. If any of that turns you off, then I'm sorry to see you go. Otherwise, welcome!
