This should be the Best Thing Ever. I can't call you about it.

I grew up in a house full of love, but not money. My parents and grandma all consistently insisted education was the path on and upwards, and because of them I'm the only one of my siblings to get a college degree. Both my parents (but especially my dad)'s smiles was a mile wide in the pictures from that graduation. My grandma was so happy and kept repeating that she had wanted to do what I did when she was young, but her dad didn't let her. Growing up in the Depression as a share cropper in the Midwest limited things for her. She dreamed of more for us.

Dad, you were always so quietly thrilled when I called you and Mom with news about a promotion, a job change, a pay increase. And now, now I finally did something I don't think any of us dreamed of. I got into a graduate school program with about a 4% acceptance rate this round. And I can't call you. I can't call Grandma. Because you're both gone.

I called Mom. She's thrilled. She said exactly what we know she'd say. But I can't call you Dad. And I can't call Grandma. It's been five years since you were both stolen from us, and I still try to call you both.

None of this feels real until I can tell you. I wonder if this will ever change.

We all love you both and we all miss you both. I don't know what's out there, but someday my atoms will see your atoms again.