My Dad's been gone nearly 3 years already. Sometimes it seems like yesterday and yet my life has changed so much.
"Dad, I got the promotion you helped me prep for the interview for..." he's not there.
"Dad, they named him Easton James. Yes, just like the baseball equipment manufacturer."
"I love you Dad."
I was doing so well. Getting by fine. Went with Mom to select flowers and place them on his grave where I carefully cleared the grass clippings from around the marker which finally bares the date of his passing. I was fine, it was fact.
It happened one night. I went to the Hallmark store. There before me was the massive display of Father's Day cards. I was told this would happen. I thought I was past it. But I'm not. I miss my Dad.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Kris, this is the first year I have not had a hard time walking by the father's day cards. Dad's been gone a few more years than your daddy, and I feel for you--I loved your daddy too.
I even try to pick up the phone to call him sometimes. I miss him too. I am glad that he doesn't miss us, because he is in heaven. That God sized hole in his heart has been perfectly filled. k2
Amen!
I was supposed to have the Norman Rockwell family....my mom was not supposed to die when she was 49 and I was 23. I am now 52 and I still can't read the Mother's Day cards. I won't tell you that "this too shall pass.." becuz it won't. It will always be hard, you will always miss him. The thing that gets better is that the memories soften, they blur on the edges like worn photographs. And you soften inside somewhere deep down where you live. Your love stays strong but your pain softens to a warm fizzy thing that still hurts, but the joy of your memories can overcome the harsh reality that you, too, will never have the Norman Rockwell family photo. I am so sorry, Kris, that you have joined the club of children without parents....there is a welcome hug whenever you need one.
I miss your dad, too.
Post a Comment