needing him the most

Grief is a funny thing, the stages of grief yeah those are bullshit, cause I can tell you I have been all over the place with my struggle of losing my dad. It's amazing to see the amount of worry and fear that I now have put on myself. Why? No idea. I'm so missing him so much. I mean I miss him everyday but sometimes it's just so much. I feel like I need him the most now that he's gone. I want him to listen to me, hear my stories, agree with my complaints, I just need him. Ya know sure I can talk to him in my thoughts and heck even out loud but it's not even close to being the same. I find myself in a hole I can't crawl out of, needing him to just be here. But I can't have him here and it sucks. I know I will continue to have the days where I need him like today but I can't so I cry and that's all I can do.

I learned it from my daddy!

An incident happened involving my 5 year old and a purse she brought with her containing a valuable to the circus well it was left there, of course discovered after we had gotten home. I called and nothing turned up in lost and found. I was so angry so very angry at the world so angry that good people just don't exist anymore or just are so few and far between. Well I was not going to give up I called was persistent on my feelings and even after driving an hour to search ourselves we were told we could not look, once again I was persistent and made more phone calls trying to get to the root of where it could had gone. Well it paid off it was turned in two days later to the office from an employee of the clean up crew. Funny how I had made a phone call to that manager this am about it. See I was not giving up. Persistence paid off my dad was the same way he never just let things go, never just walked away or took no as the answer I'm so proud to say that I learned my persistence from him cause after this episode it paid off. Thank you dad for your lessons of being persistent. I hope your smiling down on me proud of a lesson you taught me.

if only. . . .it was that easy

While standing in my parents kitchen tonight talking and listening to the girls share stories of their day, I had a feeling well more of a thought a thought of how I wish we were just standing there and just hoping my dad would walk through the door, or I peer in the living room to see him sitting in his chair. My mind started to race and weird thoughts overcome me what if he was at a meeting, what if he had just gone outside he for sure would be right back in joining in on the girls stories and laughter. It was a weird thought process. I wanted to cry out and say how can this be real how can he just not be here. Man it hurt me I miss him so much. This is our life the life without him in it the life without "Dad", "Grampa", "Husband" it's just strange how it's been 1 year and 3mo and a piece of me wants to not believe it.

On the surface

I was just thinking today it's only been a year, you have been gone only a year. Why does it feel longer some days. I found myself today as I cleaned around my house the thought of we should do this or that and remembering in the back of my mind last time dad was here or wow that was just last year. I don't know why somedays it feels like yesterday and I relive the nightmare over and over again. I get into a funk or a depression, some may say,  where I just can't think nothing but scary things. I need to stop. I'm hoping the now warmer spring days will entice me and relax me. I'm missing him so much I don't want the things we did together to have a timeline of when you left us I want my memories to not bring anxiety and depression but happiness and love.

A day to be blessed

Today was a very special day. Matt and I became godparents to my brothers son, the only boy (grandchild) on the Brackett side of the family. We arrived at church in time for Mass well my little family my girls and Matt sat through an hour long service. I could not help but bring myself back to the days that I religiously no pun intended would attend the Baptist church in the town we lived every Sunday, for Sunday school and Church. My dad always made sure I got there and even if I was at a sleep over sure enough my dad would be there to get me that morning to bring me to church if not my Sunday school teacher Mrs Stanley would stop and get me. I looked around and listened and it sure made the memories of my days at church come to me. I asked myself why for so many years Why did he make me go and not my brothers or him and mom go,  but they did go sometimes butç not as often as I. Well I guess he needed to find a way to protect me his little girl from the wrongs in the world. He wanted to instill in me the good of God and the good of people. He wanted to be sure that I was a girl of faith and belief. It's amazing as I looked around today the church as full of many young and old families, some older folks by themselves praying. Some taking part in the mass and some just taking it all in. If the world was simple as it was when my dad would drive me to church and drop me off knowing that he was wanting me to be the young woman who would not be pushed down a wrong path, man how simple of a lesson to learn as a child surrounded by others whom would also learn that too. Today seemed like so much more to worry about, the world we live in the battles fought and lost and won and the temptations of life. I can after today be forever greatful that my dad did make me go to church no matter the fight I put up. He did it cause he wanted to mold me into a girl who I am today . Thank you Daddy for all I ever really needed to know or learn about myself I got from your lessons.