Dear Tiff
It's been a year. A year ago I sat next to you, holding your hands, and staring into each others eyes until you were gone. I hope you knew then more than ever that I did not want this to happen. The wound created from your passing is no doubt evident, and the scar is no doubt permanent. The things I struggle with now are almost unexplainable(at least with the words at my disposal). I still miss you. I still Love You, and I still think about you. That I am sure will never change.
Over the course of the past year I have struggled, but I am sure you know that. I can feel you looking out for me and pointing me in the right direction...still. I stayed on the couch for a while and then realized there was a good chance you might haunt me if I didn't get my ass up and be the man you always wanted me to be. I gotta tell you I faked it for a while, and probably still am, but I think I am getting better at it. I starting running again and ran the "Rock n Roll" half marathon. Plans are to run the "Shamrock" Marathon next year. I miss running with you, but I feel you with me still whenever I am out there. I picked up the golf clubs a little towards the end of last year. I remember how you use to caddy for me all the time. How you wore those t-shirts I bought you with the butterflies on them because even though you were my caddy you would often focus your sight and thoughts on the butterflies out on the course more than next shot we had, and just so you know I loved that about you. You were such a Lady and a sweet-hearted soul. I remember when you taught me the game and teased me about not having a mental game, and during the second round of the U.S. Amateur Public links after one shot in particular you told me "I sucked". You always thought I could be great at anything and I believed it. Just so you know I played in the club championship at Little Creek. I could feel you with me the whole time. I should not have been out there because as you know I have not payed much attention to my game in a very very long time. I played because I felt like it was my way of being closer to you, and honey I could feel you there. I played in the championship flight from the back tees and made a 40 foot putt on the last hole to come in at even par. We had the lead by one shot after the first day and I was told there was a 99 percent chance we would not play the 2nd day because of weather. If only for a few hours I can say in my heart I had my Tiff back. I can also say that I went home, cried like a baby and drank myself into a coma. I woke up the next day hung over, tired, and looked outside and realized we had to play again. DAMN..lol We might not have won that day, but we sure showed what we were capable of. I was not sure until then what I was going to do. I'm a sailor. I'm a submariner. Now Tiff I can tell you ' I'm the COB". I have met some of the most phenomenal people imaginable. It has been almost like "you" hand picked BOISE(my boat) for me. I'm in Norfolk still living in our old house, but as you know this isn't the home.
I haven't talked to your mother in a while, but then again she and I were never that close. I will try and call her this weekend. Seems appropriate. Cas and I continued to call each other every Sunday just as you and him did until a couple of months ago. I think we might be playing phone tag, but I am certain this weekend will be a struggle for him as well. Uncle Mickey continues to look out for me, and is a constant reminder to me of where the good in you came from. It looks like he is up to 3 grandkids now. I know it's probably crazy to write you since your no longer here, but I figure trying to communicate any other way might get me committed..;-) I have only been on BOISE a couple of months and we are getting ready to deploy, but I am taking this weekend off and won't be going to work on Monday. Some things regardless of the time since I last saw you will always be too tough to work through.
Always in my heart, and always on mind
Forever
Stephen
