Next writing project: The old man.

I was 8 years old when I realized my father was not going to live forever. I remember asking him about it that night as he was tucking my brother and I into our bunk beds at our home in rural Lebanon, Missouri.

“Dad, are you going to die?” I said.

“Son, we all die. That’s just part of life.” He replied.

Seeing the worry on my face, he added, “Babe, I’m going to be here for a long time.”

As satisfied as a child could be with that explanation, I went on with my evening, listening to a Royals game on the radio as I fell asleep.

For years after that conversation, I would occasionally think about my old man’s mortality. The question I asked myself: “What will life be like without Dad and Mom?”

I thought about that often from 2017 to 2019, when my father battled esophageal cancer. The thought stopped for a few months when he went into remission in 2018. Not long after, when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I didn’t think about much else.

The answer to the “What will life be like?” question has plenty of layers, but the simplest one is that life is just different.

It’s been six years since the old man passed away, and I’ve thought of him at least once every day since. Oftentimes, a sight or sound triggers a memory. Today’s memory is a difficult one because it’s the anniversary of his death at age 74.

The one thing I tell people who have recently lost a parent is they will take solace in the legacy a good parent leaves behind. That is something that never dies, and something you think about every day.

While thinking about my father today, I realized that it would be a good time to share a little about my next writing project: A book about the old man.

As many of you have either read on this blog or heard me say at a “Goodbye, Butterfly” event, I’ve wanted to write a book about my dad for several years.

I’m in the early stages of researching his family’s background (an interesting tidbit, for example, is that his father fought in the Battle of the Bulge), and plan on writing a book that weaves his wisdom and lessons with a fascinating life story that includes multiple stints in prison, an early career as one of the most prolific cat burglars in Southern California and, most importantly, a damn good father and grandfather.

One of the most common questions I receive at book events is “Are you going to write another book?” The answer is yes, though based on my insistence on thorough, meticulous research, the follow-up to “Goodbye, Butterfly: Murder, faith and forgiveness in a small Kansas town” won’t be on bookshelves for several more years.

In the meantime, I plan to continue writing blogs about my father and will be sharing updates on the book. As Billy Crystal said in “Throw Momma From the Train,” “A writer writes. Always.”