The Greatest

The very day I met your Dad, who as you know was on the XXL side, he had a very little something in his arms.
It was a small baby by the name of Eddie, in the middle of a party, taking it all in.
Your Dad and I worked together as editors, but most importantly we knew that our boys were our absolute greatest joy.
Nothing could make us happier, and that is pretty cool.
We used to enjoy a lot of snacking together. And your Dad gave me the honor of reading his novel, which was ultracool.
Really, we agreed about most things.
We knew the magic of accomplished Latin superwomen who have conquered a foreign nation,
and rendered us senseless with salsa dancing and broad smiles.
I am sure you remember how much your Dad loved music, too.
But he could not have had a joy greater than you.
Once, I remember how he came out to a birthday party at our house (magician included) on the way to work.
Only it was not on his way to work; he drove 30 miles out of the way,
in a hurry
because he did not want to miss seeing you have fun.
That was your Dad.
I know we don't feel anything like lucky when we are missing him.
But we shouldn't forget that it is a pretty fine thing
to be somebody's greatest joy.
So we are lucky, too.

Mike Langan