So I've been racking my brain. Every single bloody thing I remember is negative. It's not that he didn't care (he loved me hugely and unconditionally), it's not that he didn't do his best for me, but we were almost always in conflict. Mom used to say we were just too similar to each other.
I'm going to go back to sleep, and hopefully something will come to me. The last thing I want to do is stand up in front of his friends and paint a picture of him as an asshole. Especially since he wasn't one.