A Year

A year of missing you

A July that slipped by in a numb, strange haze of grief.

 One milestone birthday where I felt empty and my heart ached so deeply to laugh with you and say, “Can you believe you have 40 year old kids?!”

So many weird moments of such anger and frustration at the unfairness of it all.

A hard Thanksgiving where I learned to sit with the weight of both grief and gratitude. 

Christmas, where I would have given anything to see your goofy grin while opening presents. 

Several holidays where it took everything in me to feel like celebrating anything at all.

Disappointment at not being able to tell you that I finally got a promotion at work. 

An incredible family vacation, short one family member. 

One beautiful dream I got to have of you smiling, at the lake, with the wind gently whisking through the grass. 

Unending times of almost forgetting you are gone and wanting to tell you something, ask you something, hug you, laugh with you, build or fix something with you, and the grief slamming into my heart once again. 

Deep sadness in knowing you will not get to see our incredible kids grow up (and needing advice on this crazy thing called parenting).

Desperately needing your ears to hear and your words of advice to receive so many times. 

Millions of times of asking myself if a girl ever stops needing her daddy? 

Tons of moments of comfort watching movies you liked and craving foods that you enjoyed. 

Beautiful moments of seeing sunflowers just about everywhere and thinking of you. 

Countless nights where grief came in waves in the darkness and I felt the pain of loss would never end.

Bad memories of the bathroom floor I sank into as I took the call with the news you were gone. 

Wanting desperately to not only talk to you but to talk about you so you won’t be forgotten. 

And smirking because I know you would gently tell me how I just need to buck up and keep going. 

Utter joy at the thought that you’ve spent a year in your heavenly home, free from all of the pain and chaos here on earth. 

Total gratitude for the 39.75 years I got to have you in my life. 

365 days of missing you, every damn day. 

Miss you. Love you, Dad.