The note

         I wanted to see you today. The new plant manager doesn’t have a family and makes it obvious she doesn’t care if we see ours. My department couldn’t shut down until 9:15, and I knew that it would be too late to stop by. There were some things I was excited about telling you. Jacob made the basketball team! You should’ve seen the smile on his face when he saw his name on the roster. I finally broke down and took Julie to the animal shelter (Before you say anything, I know, you told me a million times she’d win and get her way). We left with a lab mix, not sure what it’s mixed with though. She named him Mike, I swear, these kids and their names. “Mike the dog”, I can’t call the poor animal by its name and keep a straight face. They wanted to see you, too. They were upset when I told them I would be working too late.

         The main reason for writing this is to tell you I’m sorry. Not just for missing this visit, but for all the other ones, too. You never asked for much, a visit here and there. Maybe watch one of those superhero movies with you that you like so much.

         Sorry for lying to you on so many occasions and making my life seem more dramatic to have an excuse to flake on you. I allowed a bunch of white lies and purposely missed calls to build the foundation for the worst regret of my life. I want to come to you now, even if I'm not allowed in, and it’s too late. Lay beside you and admit that I’m just as lost now as I was then, except now I know the damage my selfishness can cause.

         I’ve been going to church. Yeah, you’ve heard me right, I said church. The pastor is younger than me but seems to have an old soul. I broke down last Sunday and told him about our situation; I was even honest about my lies to avoid you. He gave me a piece of advice that sounded silly at first. He suggested I write you a letter, so I could take the time to put all my thoughts into it. It’s taken over a week to come around to the idea, but I think he’s right. He told me to prop it on your headstone with the flowers. I think I will.

         I’ve come to your grave every day since you left me. Now the tables have changed. It’s me begging for one more visit. One more chance to touch your hand or watch television with you. There’s a pain in this irony that I deserve. I ran from the chance to see you while you were here and haven’t missed a visit since you left. Today will be the first day I’ve missed coming to see you since the stroke. I will never understand why cemeteries have a closing time.

         I want to finish this by telling you I love you. Me and the kids will be by to see you just as soon as I leave work tomorrow.