It's been one year since I lost my dad. On days like today, when I'm thinking about him a lot, I go for all the good stuff.
The shop humor from years of working with dudes. How he always used to say "It pays to advertise" if he caught anyone with their fly down. How he called me "sport" even though I was a terrible sport. How he used to laugh at The Andy Griffith Show and go "That Barney... What an asshole!" His old man feats of strength, like doing 10 one handed pull-ups at 65 and squeezing scales up to 350 lbs. The time I got caught smashing stink bombs on my 7th grade teacher's porch and he just told me to cover my tracks better. When I was very young and we used to watch Johnny Carson, and he would take the time to explain every joke, (again, to someone with no life experience and without even a cursory knowledge of the female body). How he could fix or make anything, like a go-kart, grappling hook, and incredibly dangerous slingshot that used an old coffee can of nuts and bolts as ammunition. The way he hated smokers. The way he used the word "outrageous."
Most of all, I remember my dad's insane work capacity. The shear amount of work my dad was able to accomplish in a single day was amazing. How he used to work all day then cut grass for four hours. He was always bleeding. Always had grease somewhere on his body. Burnt hair. He worked constantly and had his own, often maddening, way of doing things, but I admired him for it.
If you've still got your dad, give him a call and tell him you love him. If you don't, have a listen to this song. It won't help with the feeling bad but sometimes that's okay.