I keep asking Hashem to send me a dream about him. I want to see him walk and smile and talk.
My cousin found a video from a Chanuka party in 1988. "Check this out," he said.
There I was, 6 1/2, looking like a Princess/Coco-pop. It was all so funny, my brothers and sisters and cousins in minature. My grandfather, reveling in being master of ceremonies. My grandmother, pushing food on all of us.
Then my father walked in. He smiled at the camera. "Hi," he said in his soft voice. "Hi."
The video was 25 minutes long, and I kept going back to that part, my tears blurring his beautiful smile. "Hi," he says to me, three months after I said goodbye. "Hi."