7 Weeks have gone by since my dad died. Gosh, I miss him SO much. I can't think about him without crying. One of these days, maybe I won't cry AS MUCH when I think about him. If I didn't know the things I do, and have my faith, I would be so much worse off. Every once in a while I catch myself still referring to my dad as if he is still here. "Oh, lets call Dad and see what he thinks..." But then I remember that I can't call him anymore.
The other day my mom found some "poems" that my dad wrote. He wasn't very good at them, but he certainly got an A+ for effort. That's how he communicated his deepest feelings....through poetry. And that what made them so much more meaningful. There were two poems, one he wrote about my sister, and one about me. And typical to my dad, they were written on a paper towel, the kind you find in restaurants or stores. My dad usually wrote on whatever was handy....napkins...paper towels...even paper bags. I miss him so much....everyday it seems more and more. And no matter what everyone says, it does NOT get easier with time. I keep waiting for that. At least for it to get a LITTLE bit easier.
Now, the first week of school is down. At least for the oldest one. He will be turning one year older this coming Sunday. Seems like he was just a tiny baby just yesterday. He grew up before I knew it. I shouldn't have blinked.