When I was writing about my Dad last month and then after he passed away, there was another important aspect to all that I didn't write about because I had to process it first.

Dad was of the opinion that once we are gone we have no use for our physical bodies and if someone can benefit from our empty shell, by all means let them. Based on this belief he wanted his body donated to the KU Medical Center. We later were told that he was not a good candidate based on the amount of cancer in his body and the fact that he was jaundice. Not a big shocker to us but he was a little disappointed. He was also an organ donor but again, we didn't know if any of his organs would be acceptable. Up until this experience I didn't mind the term "harvested" but to use it now hits too close to home and makes me sick to my stomach.

The early morning hours after Dad died were busy with phone calls. I remember getting a call at 3am from a contact person with the eye bank. They wanted permission to "use" my Dad's eyes and said that this donation alone could help up to four individuals. Mom was happy about this because she knew it was what Dad wanted. I won't speak for my sister but while I knew it was the right thing to do... it was difficult to think about. Still is.

Last night Mom was excited to tell me she got a call from the eye bank and recipients had been selected; one in Missouri and another in New York.

Yesterday was a hard day for some reason. There was nothing significant about January 16th but I just missed my Dad. My daughter had a dance performance Friday night and he wasn't there. There are going to be a whole new series of "firsts" that we are going to have to experience this year and frankly, it sucks. On the flip side I know my Dad is watching over me and that thought motivates me to be a better person. I guess I'm still that child trying to make him proud.