Your dad was a real people person; it's just a shame his immune system wasn't.

There are those tiny sausages you like.

Every time you see a shooting star– first of all, you'd be lucky, the chances of seeing one are slimmer than you'd think, especially if you're not like constantly looking up at the sky. Secondly... what was I saying?

You look just like him. That'll be hard for you.

He's still with us. He's in the trees.

Are you the son? Eric? Andy, that's it! Andy.

You know how an hour can feel longer sometimes, like when you're in school or something? I like to think that in the moment we die we experience a lifetime in our head. And I know your dad would've thought about you so in a way he's out there in time living a whole life with you.

How he loved you.

Got your nose, Eric!