. . . The story you are about to read was not written from memories of something that happened nearly a decade ago. These are my thoughts and feelings committed to paper as I was thinking and feeling them in 2009. . .
. . . At about 7:15 a.m., I took a break to refill my coffee cup. As I walked into the kitchen, there was a knock on the front door.
It was not a normal knock—too hard and firm. I pause, and then two hard and quick bangs follow. I walk down the dark hall and pause again in front of the door—another hard knock. I turn the knob and slowly open the door. . .
. . . I can feel Ryan telling me that it is okay to be sad but only for a moment. “You need to stay strong, Dad. Kimberly’s baby is coming and will bring joy, but she needs to slow down and enjoy it all. And mom has to know that I am okay. I will be with you when the baby comes. Look for me in the light. . .
. . . Whatever your reason for picking up this book and reading it to the end, I hope that my story provides you with something to hold onto as you travel the crooked and thorny path that we call life. I wish you well for your journey. May love be your guide. . .