Hey Pete,

With your birthday coming up Monday, I just felt like sending you an email. Don’t know what your address is up there, but hope this finds its way to you.

To say that Mom and I and everyone else miss you would be a colossal understatement. I’d give anything to hear your van pull into the garage after work, hear your wheelchair come up the ramp and into the door, and ask you what sports news you’d heard today. But that’s another discussion for another time.

Right now, I just wanted to catch you up on just a few of the things that have happened since you’ve been gone. In March of ’15, Mom and I donated a little red wagon to Riley Hospital North—you know, the kind that we used to use to haul all of our stuff into the hospital whenever you checked in there. Anyway, I stopped in there this spring to see some of your friends, and saw the wagon—with your license plate—right there in the main entrance. It looked in good shape, but I could tell it had got some use. It had a little mud on the tires, a few signs of wear, but that’s a good thing! I know other families and kids are using it, just like we used to!

Also, for the past three years, Mom, and then Phil, have organized a “Peter’s Team” to go to Joni and Friends Family Retreat, that you enjoyed so much. Each year, there have been 16-18 team members who’ve gone to serve–complete with t-shirts with your picture–and they’ve done a super job! You’d be especially proud of how some of the young people on the team, Braden Hobbs, Alexa (his fiancée) and Hannah Fadil have really jumped in and taken this ministry to heart. They, and everyone else, has done a tremendous job with their campers!

Then the last two years, I’ve had a chance to go on two trips with Joni and Friends Wheels for the World, to distribute refurbished wheelchairs to people in the Middle East and Poland. I went as a “wheelchair mechanic,” making adjustments on wheelchairs, to fit their new recipients. (I got plenty of experience working on yours! Actually, we donated your backup manual chair to WTFW). For many, it was their first wheelchair—ever! Anyway, in both countries, I had chances to share with families and groups about you, and how I was there because of you, and wanted to be able to give back to some others in similar situations. People loved your story! I can’t wait to take another trip and tell more people about you!

Then there’s this book that I wrote about you, and all of the wonderful people we encountered along the way. It’s titled “He Made Us Better: A Story of Faith, Family, Friends (and Football).” You’d have loved this book, Pete, a ton of great memories. Since it’s been out, I’ve received a lot of really nice comments about it.  Mostly along the lines of “I really enjoyed the book.” “I didn’t know Peter before, but now I feel like I really know him.” “It made me laugh, and it made me cry.” “I feel like reading this book made me a better person.” So far, the account of you and your cousins’ “contest” seems to be the most popular story.

Well, I’d better get going. I mainly just wanted to let you know that even though you’ve moved on, your memories and your example are still going strong, still impacting people in very powerful ways, far beyond which you likely have any idea. You really did finish the race, and fought the good fight. We’re so incredibly proud of you!

Wishing you the best on your birthday Monday.

I still have a lot of things to do here, but there’s a part of me that can’t wait to see you again, toss around a football, and have you show me around. Until then…

Love,

Dad