You know that game you play when you're little? The greatest game on Earth, the one that can go on for hours and hours and hours and still be fun?

The 'peek-a-boo' game. The one where your mom or dad asks: ''Can you see me now? ... Peek-a-boo!'''

And you erupt into fits of giggles, and there's nothing, absolutely nothing, else going on in the world other than that most enthralling peek-a-boo game ...

I play that game these days. Not with my Kiddo, she's far too mature and savvy at almost 9 to fall for my face hidden behind my hands.

Nope, not with Kiddo.

I play with my Dad. In my head.

Now that I've reached a healthier state of grieving, one where I can actually be sad, and look at old pictures once in a while, and MISS him - I play that game.

Yup. In my head, I ask: ''Can you see me now, Daddy?''

My game's a little more serious now though. I'm really asking. I'm really hoping. I'm really wondering if he's looking down and seeing.

Every once in a while, I'm tempted to say: ''Peek-a-boo!''