There are words I am sure that can somehow describe these
feelings.
These feelings of grief and pain and the constant, I mean
constant longing to be with him again.
I am just not very good at finding those words…
Ah, to hear his laughter again, to hear his deep voice
giving us a hard time, to hear his knock on our door. What I wouldn’t give for
that? I never write or talk about it but it is always there just right below
the surface of all the happy thoughts. This missing never ends.
There hasn’t been a day where I don’t remember him.
Sometimes enough of a memory that brings tears to my eyes. Sometimes a funny
bit that brings a smile to my face. Sometimes a memory we share outloud with
the kids but they tend to change the subject quickly because ‘mommy gets
sad’. Or sometimes as I pass his
neighborhood. Or when I find an old tag with his handwriting. And of course all
the photos in the albums, on the web, in frames and in my heart.
I constantly ask why it hurts so much? Is it that it was too
early, he was too young, we didn’t have enough time, he didn’t get to see it
all with my kids? Is it that I still need him? Is it that he was such a part of
our daily life? Is it that loosing a parent is so much more painful that
loosing grandparents? Why, why is it so hard?
Everyone says it takes time and time has helped. It has been
a year now. But, I honestly can’t say the pain has lessoned. What I can say is
I guess I have learned to live with that feeling. That feeling of a knot in
your throat, that rock that just sits in your heart. That uneasy feeling, that
something is wrong and missing even in best moments. I have learned to
recognize it and identify it. It is ‘Dad’.
And I would love to think there is a way he can see us still
and know we are OK and then even though we miss and think of him everyday we
continue our lives like he would have wanted us to and that his grandkids grow
every passing day and are happy and healthy.
I hope he is in peace.
I love him so much…
