My dad was very kind, funny, and loud. Not loud in a bad way, but in a way where his laugh echoed, and his whistle went miles. I remember how he took me to practice my hitting for softball, and the many trips we took to this massive hill and the long walk we’d take up it just to sled down it a couple times in the winter. I remember the occasional times he’d pick me up from practice on his motorcycle and tell me to hold on, and the heavy metal he’d blast in his car to jam out to. I remember the way his breath always smelled like spearmint gum and how bright of a smile he had. I remember the days I taught him how to play Call Of Duty and the days in which he got exponentially better than me at it. I remember how he made a treasure chest out of cardboard and spray painted rocks for my birthday when we had just moved into a new house. I remember so many good things about him, and I miss him everyday. I wish he knew how many people loved him and missed him, and how he had always been enough for me, even when he felt like he wasn’t.

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Kevin Hunt

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OBITUARY

Kevin Wayne Hunt

May 14, 1973 – December 25, 2021

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