My dad, who died last year in May, was known to cut a rug or two in his lifetime.  He was a champion dancer, often winning awards for his skills.  If there is anything I remember best about my dad, it was his dancing.

I miss that.  

Dad died in May of 2013 in a car wreck: a drunk driver going the wrong way slammed into Dad's car at a high rate of speed, killing him instantly.  (The other driver wasn't hurt, not even a scratch.)  It was the worst thing that could have ever happened to our family.  

Dad was only 38 years old when he died.  Way too young.  

I thought I was going to go crazy when I heard the news; it took me a very long time to get over it (and I don't think I ever will, completely; but at least I can now talk about Dad without falling apart each and every time).

The holidays were the worst.  Dad loved Christmas and Thanskgiving, let alone, getting together with the family.  He also loved cooking and making us laugh and taking us to the French dances every weekend.  (We're Cajun; we live in Louisiana, and Dad was a champion dancer.  He won awards for the Cajun waltz, jitterbug, and two step at Cajun festivals.)

Dad always loved dancing with Mama and with me.  He said I was Mama's spittin' image; he said I took after her in looks, talent in the kitchen, and in my personality.  Dad was more outgoing and fun; Mama is serious and reserved.  I'm just like Mama in that regard; maybe that's why Dad's death nearly knocked me (and Mama) over.

Now Valentine's Day is coming up this week, and that was another holiday Dad loved.  He loved taking Mama and me to the Valentine's Day dance after a good home-cooked meal at Cracker Barrel.  We did that since I was six (I'm now 11); this is going to be the first year we won't get to do that.  I know Mama will cry buckets of tears (as I will), but I have to be strong for her and for our younger brothers and sisters.  Dad would want us to continue with our lives; he wouldn't want us to be sad, but it's so hard whenever I think of that stupid drunk driver who didn't think before getting behind the wheel, and because of his stupidity, Dad is no longer alive.  I find a hard time trying to forgive that person for that.

Say some prayers on our behalf; we could really use 'em!  It's been a horrid 9 months!!  Thanks!

~Netta Duhon, Gonzales, Louisiana.