As always, the first thing I did was have a drink with dad, opening the bottle of whiskey and pouring two shots, sipping at one while pouring the other where he was buried. It was a tradition I'd done since I'd first put the old man in the ground, and if or when I had a son, hoped he'd do the same thing with me once I dropped. Laying the rug on the ground, Emily and I sat down as my sister sat on her knees near my father's plaque.

Wiping it clean of dirt and dust, she leaned down and kissed it. "I miss you so much, daddy," she...