Thoughts of My Father

The sun is out today, bathing my life with warmth and sunshine. The windows and doors are open, the music is on, the chickens are free ranging and I find myself traveling down memory lane with thoughts of my father.

We lost Dad more than two years ago and it still seems surreal that he won't answer an email sent to him. It's sad, really. There are things to share, experiences to reveal and new people to discuss, but none of that will occur.

My father is Frank Centofante, a world renowned knife maker who lived a quiet life pursuing simple pleasures. He could often be found in "the shop", where his magnificent creations were born, or spending time with his beloved dogs or my step-mother, his wife of more than 40 years.

Today as I read the many articles about the "late" Frank Centofante and marvel at his masterpieces, some still available for sale, I can't help but think of all that is lost with his passing. The man, the brother, the husband, the father, the artisan, the Catholic, the hall of famer, the writer, the grandfather, the great grandfather - they live only now in the memories of those he touched with his love, his craft, his life.

I miss you, Pop... even more today.

- Krissy