'How I'd love to dance with my father again'

This photo of my father and sister was buried in file folders within a box. I took it about 15 years ago.

It's amazing the memories you can find in a box within a box, and sometimes find just what you need to see.

I started this year by moving into a new home. Of course, along with moving comes sorting through boxes of things which had been buried for quite some time.

During my most recent sorting, I found a picture of my sister and father -- taken probably 15 years ago.

I remembered the moment I had captured the photograph as soon as I saw it. Dad had helped my sister, Crystal, build a box car for the annual races we had at church. He had made the car by hand, they tested the speed together and Crystal painted it to finish up the project.

It instantly brought tears to my eyes.

Feb. 6 will be the one year mark since he had a heart attack and passed away in my childhood home. We did not always see eye-to-eye, and the weeks before his death were no different. I had a hard time forgiving myself for not letting bygones be bygones.

I miss his absurd, often crass, sense of humor. No one has made fun of my nose since he's been gone. It was a long-running joke of ours. My big nose is the exact shape and size as his. Dad knew it drove me crazy, so he'd constantly tell me I have a beautiful nose to get a rise out of me.

He also jokingly told me a few times my real dad was the Fed Ex guy, but between my big nose and the color of my eyes, he could never deny me.

Another reason he's been on my mind a lot lately is because I'm getting married this summer. My fiance popped the question on Christmas Eve and my daddy won't be there for my big day.

Dad always said he had this hilarious story to tell me and my future spouse, but he was set on waiting until I was married. It was odd because a few months before his death, he'd given up on waiting for me to get married and told me this (embarrassing) story he had kept to himself for more than two decades.

I miss my daddy, even though he knew exactly how to push all my buttons at once. He always knew how to make me laugh.

Here are a few of my favorite dad-isms, courtesy of Facebook memories:

Dad: You're not normal.

Me: Your face is not normal!

Dad: You're right. It's not normal. It's definitely above average.

Me: Do you want a bozo button?

Dad: Aw, honey. I wouldn't take your only button.

Dad: I'm just mad you lied about losing your voice because you're still talking.

Sabrina is the editor of the Greene County Daily World. She can be reached at westfallgcdw@gmail.com or by phone at 812-847-4487.