Grieving is a process. We all know this is true. It’s painful at times; pain like someone punched you in the stomach and took your breath away. I can physically feel the pain when it hits me. That’s the thing with grief. I just don’t know when it’s going to come back and really hit me.
So Dad. It has been almost 2 years since you went your separate way, and I can report that things in life are moving along pretty well. I took off your bracelet like you suggested, and I still feel you with me every day. It’s a good thing. Decisions are sometimes difficult without you, and I sure miss that pat on the back that you always had for me when I needed it. I lost a big fan when I lost you, and fans like you are hard to come by.
It’s summertime now, and your beach house is alive with activity, just like you liked it. Today was special as old friends were there. We shared stories and filled the air with laughter as we sat on the deck that you built. Just as you wanted it. What a great place that beach house you built us is. A strange thing happened though, as I climbed the stairs to your bedroom to grab a pair of sweats for the evening stroll to the beach. Grief hit me. A blow to the throat. A reminder that there is something bigger and stronger than me that controls my destiny. It sure hurts, that blow, but I’ll take it when it comes, because if I hadn’t loved you so strongly, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
Missed you today, but I saw you all around me as I sat on your favorite beach, with some of your favorite people. I captured in photos what I felt was you, and I hope you enjoy them.
~and so it goes.
Until we meet again. My love always,