I so missed my father's presence on the island this year. I missed the way he never jumped in to Haley's Cove, but rather inched in slowly, as if waiting for the tide to submerge him instead of having to take the plunge himself.
I missed the quiet moments in the harbor, fishing silently together, connected by a mutual love of a moment that needed no words.
I missed the hike to the cairn and Maren's Rock with him smiling at his grandkids talking a mile a minute about what they might find on the trail.
I missed coming into the house at noon to find my dad sitting in the corner reading, trying to get out of the often intense sun.
I missed his amazing zest for life that was so evident off the cliffs of the dyke at sunset as he would fly through the air and land in the sparkling clear, wonderfully cold water with a tremendous splash and a huge gasping smile.
I missed him planting the hatchet with red paint on the handle into the sign for the Honvent House. Only some will understand that one...but I missed it.
I missed his kite flying.
The light of sunset on the windows of Haley just didn't look the same this year.