It's been 7 years one month and 13 days since Pop has been gone, and I still sometimes expect a phone call at 10 a.m. on a Sunday. The smell of old spice still reminds me of him. And every time I go around a cornier fast in a car I think "hold on to your girdle" and laugh to myself because it took over 20 years to figure out what the hell a girdle was. And I still crack up at the mere thought of that sofa bed folding up with us in it and Pop's feet going clear over his head. He could always make me laugh even if it were a silly Fozzy The Bear-esque joke. The man loved himself some Fozzy the bear. He was always a big kid at heart.
As a kid I hated being called Spikey, but when I got older and he started to develop Alzheimer's and had a hard time remembering my name was Nicole or Nikki, he still knew I was Spikey. after that I no longer hated the name. After he had passed I got it tattooed in remembrance of him.
I love and Miss you Pop! Happy Fathers Day.
