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Scott is a big deal. At least it feels that way on the train. 

He died at age 42, (when I was just turned 18), so that makes it what, 29 years ago?

1987, the year I graduated high school.

I don’t feel it so much these days, and only really think on it when I wonder what his thoughts on an item might be, or I’m reminded of fathers in general, like the holidays or whatnot.

It is strange to me to be older than my dad’s age at death. Comparisons I used to run simply don’t apply anymore.

I like to think I’m in a happier and more supportive place than he was in his 40s – but I also think that we are two very different people. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to be married with kids in my 20’s – a standard for his generation.