August 6, 2024
221 Days Without You
Hi Dad,
My therapist thinks I should start writing to you. She thinks it will help me process. I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could just sit down across from you and talk to you like I always did. You would be lying on the couch or in your recliner reading YaHoo Sports on your IPad. Your legs would be crossed and you’d probably be wearing a Rams hat. God, Dad, this sucks. I’m trying to keep going, and I’m getting really good at keeping a smile on my face at work and with friends and family, even with my husband. I’ve always said I’m an open book, but maybe I’m lying to myself.
Dad, so much has happened since you’ve been gone, and it scares me—how fast life is still moving even without you here. Some things are going really well, like Carter and my’s new apartment and getting at position with BHG. Sometimes the ache of missing you isn’t as loud. But some days, or hours, or minutes, I still swear this all isn’t real. That it’s not actually possible that you’re gone. On those days, my heart breaks all over again, when I realize this is real like. You’re gone and I won’t see you again until this life is over.
Dad, Uncle Brad is gone now and your childhood best friend, Darrell, passed away in a car accident last week. But I guess you already know that. I hope you greeted them and are with Grandma and Grandpa. Dad, I’m so torn because I would give anything to talk to you and hug you one more time, but I still have so much life to live down here. So much life left that I’m scared to do so much of it without you. How did I only get you for 22 years? It doesn’t seem fair, and I know you didn’t think it was fair either.
I miss you more than I knew was possible, and I don’t think people know how much I’m hurting. My fingers and feet are always bloody from picking at them (thanks for passing that down to me). Even when I’m not thinking about hurting, I must still be. I miss you most when the whole family is together—Mom, Alec, Sarah, Baby F, Carter, and me. Alec and I had a fight while you were in hospice, and since then, things between us have been much worse. Alec and Mom were always closer, and you and I just got each other. It feels like I lost my person, the one who always had my back.
Dad, this was all over the place. I miss you every second of every dad. I know when I get to Heaven I should run straight to Jesus, but I might run into your arms instead.
