One Year Too Long

I’ve re-written this blog post at least a billion times. My heart and chest are heavy. I am feeling physical pain from this sadness. I’m lonely and hurting. I feel like I can’t breathe. I am having every flashback possible and with each one, it gets worse.

I wanted to write-up this huge explanation of how hard today is going to be. How sad I feel, how terrible yesterday was. I wanted to write about my experience through grief in this last year and moving forward starting tomorrow. But I just don’t have it in me.

The only thing my heart wants to say is how much I miss my dad. How much I ache to physically see him again. Sure, photos and videos help but they’re the biggest reminder that he’s not here and he won’t be ever again. I really struggle with that. I’m doing my best to carry on his legacy of being happy, figuring things out on your own and doing something in your life. I’m just sad. I’m so sad. :( I know exactly what happened today, last year, by heart. I remember the time the nurse told us she knew he’d probably go in the next 24 hours and we were shocked. I remember family members coming over to say their final goodbyes. I remember having the hardest talk EVER with my dad: letting him know that it was okay to go now and that we would take care of mom. I remember holding his hand one last time and kissing it with tears in my eyes.

I just ache today, especially today. I just miss my dad and all the good times we had and all the funny things he’d say or how I was such a pest to him all the time but he loved me anyway. This year has FLOWN… literally. It has gone faster than I expected it to and I’m kind of shocked. Today, I want to celebrate my dad as much as I can. Remembering all of the times we were in the Tahoe with the radio on and he’d ALWAYS ask me if this song was sung by Lizzie McGuire. Haha, every time. Or his imitation of “Rude” from Bon Qui Qui. I still laugh so hard at that one.

A piece of my heart is missing, and it will be missing for a long time. But I know that the piece of my heart that is missing, is with God right now. God is holding onto this piece and He is taking care of it, and because of that, I can feel whole again. I can feel piece and comfort instead of pain and sorrow. My chest may be heavy with sadness, where my heart physically aches. But that ache is the same reminder that my dad is not lost forever, that he is just on the other side of the veil and is being taken care of. I can handle that. I can move forward with that.

Daddy, I miss you so. I know you’ll be with us today, but please give mom and extra hug or two. We’re doing our best to take care of her any way we can. We promise. We love you.

GRATIFY