Missing him...

Tonight as I sit in my new office, late at night while the rest of the world sleeps - I can't help but truly miss my dad. My dad is really the one that would love getting emails of pictures of my house (my mom and grandma do too, but my dad always the first to respond and be excited.) Late at night would be when my dad and I would chat about our days... for the last couple years of his life, his end of the conversations were extremely limited and boring (in his opinion, too) and that was always saddening for us both, because it would kill me at how discontent he was... and for him it would be just the same a frustration at the limitations of his body and what was left and settled as his life and existence. And I know now he's busy doing a million and one things that he loves to do, with people that he loves to do them with... able to breathe and be healthy in a MUCH better place... but the selfish me really wishes he was still here able to chat with me now online. He never got to see this place, or know that I was happy here (although he knew I would be!), he never got to see me teach MY cats to sit up pretty like he taught his, and many other future "he nevers" ...

Overall lately, it has been much better than the original devastation. I still am numb, and I still think every now and again "hey I should tell my dad that..." and then a sadness and a smile kinda comes over me because I can't tell him, but I can kinda take comfort in that he already knows whatever is that I wanted to tell him. So, it's interesting. Next Friday, surrounded by much excitement of a wedding and much celebration - I will take a moment for my dad - it will have been 6 months. Six months since I've talked to him, hugged him, smelled him, saw his eyes - his beautiful eyes, changed the channel for him, watched football with him (Go Saints!,) told him what was happening in my life... 6 months. It doesn't seem possible - and probably will never seem fair. He should have had another 30 years. Yet he had a great 58.