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Date of Birth: September 15, 1963
Department: Global Networks
Position: Assistant Vice President
My honey, my baby. My one and only love. I miss you terribly.
I can still feel your hand in mine on our nighttime walks and the stiff feel of your suit jacket as you embraced me during those long, slow dances. Being held in your arms was the most wonderful place to be. I miss your warming up my side of the bed so I wouldn’t be chilled, and the look in your eyes as I’d catch you staring at me. “What?” I’d ask. “I’m just adoring you,” you would reply. “Well knock it off,” I’d snap. I miss our long talks when I would unload everything and you always patiently listened, no matter how late, no matter how tired. You were my best friend.
The kids knew they had the best dad. Every night, no matter what your work-day brought, you wanted to spend time with us. I would bring your dinner outside so you could eat and watch the kids play. Then it would be a bike ride to the park, ice cream, swimming or all three. Stories and tuck-ins would follow and then you would collapse onto the sofa, rest your hand on my leg, and ask about my day. So selfless.
I can still hear the kids running to the door each night screaming “Daddy’s home!” and jumping into your arms. And I will always laugh remembering my trip to Virginia. How many times did I call to check on the kids! And then at the airport, there were the three kids, wrapped in gauze and bandages, streaked with fake blood, writhing on the floor in pain. I’m sure we provided a few laughs to our fellow travelers as well.
Jillian will always treasure the trips she took to the office, chair races down the hall and candy from the guys. How you loved to show her off. She will always remember you tucking her in each night saying “I love you more than any Daddy loves their daughter.”
Kyle will hold tight to his memories of you waking him early on Saturday mornings for a bike ride and workout at the park, you saying “Hey buddy, how about me and you and a game of football?” and scary movies only you watched in the basement because the girls were too scared.
Kimberly, who has a smile that lights up a room as you did, still breaks into fits of giggles when we pretend to throw the grapes from the Barney book into each others faces. That was your game. It’s Kimberly who reminds me of our last year together. “Memba Mommy, memba me and Daddy at beach? Memba train at Disney? Whoo, whoo.” Yes Kimberly, I’ll always remember. She talks of her angel Daddy and calls “I love you Daddy. I miss you Daddy.” and blows kisses to heaven because she knows kisses are being sent her way as well.
Just this past summer, during a rare, quiet moment, I told you that it would be difficult for me to find a woman who was loved more or treated better. I can still see your shy, blushing smile. “I’m glad you told me that,” you said. I’m glad I did too.