Sixteen years ago today my pop passed away. He was only 58 years old. Cancer is a real motherfucker. His love for both cigarettes and vodka likely didn’t help but we all have vices. You have to enjoy life and if vices help with that, bring it.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. I have two great reminders I wear daily – his pinkie ring and wedding ring.

My mom gifted me his pinkie ring when he passed away. He bought it with his earnings from the Air Force when he was in Vietnam. He came home from the war and he asked my grandpa what he should do with all that he saved. He said to put it in diamonds. So the pinkie ring is really choice. Always loved it and it fits perfectly on my ring finger. My mom then surprised me for my 40th birthday with his wedding ring. She added my birthstone, my hubby’s and daughter’s too. My mom always outdoes herself with gifting but this was by far the most special gift I’ve ever received.

When I opened up the package, I cried at the center island in our kitchen. I knew right away what it was. My daughter was there with me and she ran in to tell my husband that I was balling in the kitchen. She’s not at the point in her life to be sentimental with her emotions. Someday *maybe* she’ll soften.

Aside from my rings, I hear or see things that remind me of my pop all the time. Whether it’s a clever joke that would be a pop-ism or my own curse words that he gifted me, he’s always with me. “Fuck” was for sure my first word, whether my mom will admit it or not. My pop held nothing back and used curse words for commas, just like me. My mom attempted to make me a lady but quickly realized I was just going to talk like a sailor. I grew up on a construction crew so it was inevitable.

My pop and mom both got me hooked on my pop culture obsession at an early age. Because of my pop, I learned to appreciate all the action stars of the eighties including Chuck Norris and Charles Bronson, along with legends like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood.

He ran his own construction company where he built awesome custom homes. When I was about 5 or 6, we started watching the afternoon re-runs of Dallas. We coined it our “Daily Dose of Dallas” and when he would get home from the job site, we’d watch it together and see what the latest drama J.R. Ewing and Sue Ellen were cookin’ up.

We also watched a ton of other shows together like Magnum P.I., Simon and Simon, The A-Team, and Miami Vice, just to name a few.

Lots of sitcoms were on our TV watch list too like Cheers. We’d laugh together at all the Norm and Cliff-isms. Our favorite was “It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m wearing milk bone underwear.” Now, I hear Norm recite that from time to time on 80s on 8 on Sirius and I just smile, remembering my pop.

From time to time I’d convince him to go to see a movie in the theater. He preferred watching at home but I remember two movies specifically that I got him to see with me. We were huge Bruce Willis fans so when the third Die Hard hit the theater, he went with me. Then, because he loved to golf and thought Kevin Costner could do no wrong, we saw Tin Cup.

Sometimes he’d surprise me with watching a movie that you wouldn’t think a tough S.O.B. like him would care about. Movies like Pretty In Pink, The Cutting Edge, and The Bodyguard were among some of his favorites. He’d watch them on repeat with me, most likely because he knew how much I liked them. I’ve done the same for my daughter. It’s just what parents do, especially if you get to spend some time together.

It’s hard to believe that he’s been gone for close to two decades. So much has happened that I wish he could have experienced but I know he’s watching from the big golf course in the sky, while he sips on his vodka on the rocks at the 19th hole bar.  Cheers to you, Pop. Thanks for all the memories and being my O.G. pop culture partner-in-crime.