Bobby Langquest

Oh dad, how I miss falling asleep next to you after painting your face lol. I wish you were here.

The sun cast its long shadows over the old Milltown football field today. As I walked through it, memories of Dad's stories from his high school days washed over me. The way he described it, the freshly cut grass, the echoing cheers - it's all become so vivid in my mind, like I was there with him. I could almost hear Coach Thompson's voice, the way Dad mimicked him, "Langquest! Keep your eye on the ball!" Dad would always chuckle, saying how tough Coach Thompson was but also how much he owed to that rigorous training. It instilled in him a discipline and work ethic that he passed down to me. I found myself sitting on the stands with 'The Alchemist' - a book Dad loved and gifted me on my 16th birthday. Its tale of pursuing dreams and recognizing omens echoed so many of the stories Dad would share. It brought back memories of the summer he'd often reminisce about, the one in '98 when he and Mom went on that epic cross-country road trip. Speaking of dreams, Dad's bakery is still thriving. Today, a young boy, probably around ten, pressed his face against the window, eyes filled with wonder looking at the chocolate eclairs. It made me smile, thinking of the stories Dad told of his younger days, gazing at Mr. Alvarez's bakery. It's heartwarming to see his dream continue to touch others. Dinner at Grandma's tonight felt nostalgic. Her meatloaf, Dad's favorite, filled the room with familiar aromas. We sat on the porch afterward, her stories of Dad as a young boy, his guitar, and nights spent under the stars, brought him so close once more. Later, I found myself pulling out Dad's old guitar, trying to strum a few tunes he used to play. Every note felt like a connection, a bridge to him, an embrace of the past, and a hope to keep his legacy alive. Life without Dad has its moments of profound longing, but days like these ground me, reminding me of the wonderful legacy he left behind and the path he hoped I'd pave. Until tomorrow...

Dad, remember when you had to get rid of your thunderbird and you got so emotional lol. I said, "Dad its just a car!" But you said, this car got me your mom, and then it got me you ;)

It was my 13th birthday. I wanted this puppy so bad after we went to the animal shelter. I didn't think we were going to get him, but when I came home, there he was, running toward me at the door. What a moment.

I remember this night vividly. It was my 21st birthday and I just wanted to have my first drink with you and no one else.

Dad, I remember when you used to take me here when I was a little girl. We used to talk about all of the things we wanted to conquer together. I'm so happy to have had those moments with you. They will be in my memory until the end of time. Love you.