 Really wanna lay out in my backyard, and smoke a bowl. Maybe watch the stars and talk to my Dad. He's not alive anymore, so asking my Aunt to send some of his ashes to me might be the only thing I have left. 

We're indigenous, ( among a few other bits ) and he is incredibly spiritual. ( I never refer to him as though he's gone, because that's not how it works and I know it. He's there, just his body isn't anymore. ) 

I just miss him. I wish we could have had more time. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

But it's how he wanted it to be. Dad's a proud man and didn't want me to see him like that. He wanted me to remember him as the big behemoth, muscle-bound guy riding his motorcycle. I love him.

Always will. He's my hero and I can't see him as anything other than home.

My Aunt told me to stop putting him on a pedestal; because at the end of the day, he was a man that made mistakes. 

...but he's my Dad. My Hero.

I made so many mistakes too, and we lost time because of it. But the moments we do have, I cherish. I keep looking over our chats and feeling my heart break. I just wanted to hug him one last time...and hear him call me "Kiddo.."

I love you, Dad.