It's February.

Already.

You've been gone for almost four months now. 

My heart still aches for you. I still cry. Hard. 

Some nights it hurts so much I can't breathe. 

I find myself sobbing. The triggers seem small. They seem invisible sometimes. 

I see your picture. Constantly. I carry you with me. Always. 

It's too long. 

It's not fair. 

Will the pain ever fade? 

There are parts of me that don't want it to. I need to know it, feel it, live it, breathe it. 

I need to miss you with all of my heart and soul and entire body until my pillow is soaked with tears. 

I need to dwell in the moments you're missing. 

I need to think about all the things we said, and ache over the things we didn't. Or some that we did. 

I yelled at you. I tried to get you to do things my way. I only wanted you to be healthy and strong and Daddy forever. And it didn't even matter - did it? 

It just happened anyway. 

G-d took you. He did. She did. Whoever it is up there that makes these calls? THEY did. 

This is a heated topic. You wouldn't want me to be angry with Him. And so I try not to be. Because you never were. You believed what you believed and felt with your heart what was and would be would be. "So it shall be written, so it shall be done."

It doesn't mean *I* have to like it. Or respect it. Or BELIEVE it. But for now I do. Because I will always respect YOU. Did you know that? Do you know it? Did I show that enough?

The moments that live in my gut. Each time I looked to you for acceptance. Forgiveness. Pride. Love. It was there. Your eyes. Your smile. That laugh. G-d, that laugh, when it hit you. It got you. It hit everyone. We'd get in trouble. Especially you. You'd get in trouble. But it was worth it. Still is - for each memory. Each moment.

And so I sit here writing, with tears flowing out of my exhausted eyes, and I hear you. Or I try to. I see you. I replay your voice in my head as best I can. Small clips here and there. I need to hear you again. I need to find you. I can't decide if I'm laughing or crying. Sometimes I do both. 

Daddy, did you send me this song that I probably haven't listened to in forever or possibly even knew I owned? It came on as I was writing this and I stopped for a minute. And as sad as I am and as much as I miss you, I listened to it anyway. Tears flowing.  

I miss you, Daddy. But still ... you make me smile.

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