Missing Dad

Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my Dad. My Dad passed away almost 2 years ago. I miss him. Every time I see a silver-haired man, I think of my Dad. I miss his laugh, his writing, his loving ways. I miss the prayer he used to say at the holiday dinner every Thanksgiving, even though I used to kid him about it. There was something so comforting about hearing that prayer.

Just writing this makes me teary-eyed. I see pictures and wish he were still here. My kids miss their Grandpa. I have a picture of my daughter Kelsey when she was 7 sitting drawing plans with her Grandpa. I see him in Canada with the kids, I see him in the strong face of my 20 year old son. I wish he were here to hug me one more time.

I miss him SOOOOOOOOO much. But he’s not here anymore. He’s gone.

All that lives on are the gifts he left me. The love of his legacy.

Missing Dad is something I do every day. I expect I’ll do it for the rest of my life. I hope I’ll do it for the rest of my life. Because when you truly miss someone daily, it means you had something amazing and wonderful. Something bigger than the mere mortal. It means you had real love.


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