Missing My Daddy

Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary.

Fourteen years.

Happily married. A little bit crazy. And a lot of love.

But today. Today I am missing my daddy.

A whole lot.

Like, my G-d, it hurts.

There isn't anything I can do about it - of course - but allow myself to grieve.

Permit myself to feel. To ache. To hurt. To cry.

To remember.

Thinking about my father is not something that only happens on anniversaries and occasions. It's not something that comes with holidays and pictures. It's there. All the time. It's a constant.

I don't ever forget how big the hole is in my life since he's left.

I try to laugh. I try to smile. I certainly love.

But I miss my daddy.

I miss his hands. I miss holding them. I miss how they felt. How they smelled, even. Oh, how I miss him. His arms. The warmth of his hugs. Enveloping me. Shielding me. Protecting me from all the things.

My father wasn't a giant man, not in the scheme of things, I'd guess. But to me? To me he was beyond compare. My father, man of little words, loved with his whole heart.

I'm truly blessed to have the memories of times spent with my dad. Memories made with my core family of my parents and my brother. Growing up in my house was - well - it was all the things you wish a child to have. And then, to spend such time with my parents and my husband. My daughter. I have what many people wish for. Moments and memories to hold close forever. I know people look for that. They dream of it. Am I selfish for wanting more? For wanting more years together? For wanting so many things?

You know what? I don't care. I'll be selfish. It's fine. I miss him. I want more time.

Don't we always?

Love the ones you're able to hold close, friends. Remind them of this love. Move past the moments that make you angry. The ones that make you spit nails and breathe fire. We all have them. Don't laugh. You know you're feisty enough to practically spit nails sometimes, right?  These moments? This anger? They're nothing compared to the grief that hits in waves and makes your heart ache. after the person you love is gone. Let them go.

I miss you, Daddy. I hope that tomorrow finds you dancing with our loved ones in honor of my anniversary. Know I'll be holding you in my heart. Today. Tomorrow. Every day. Always.

Tweet