a reflection can trigger so much more

So today I learned that my 7th grade English teacher Mr. Norton passed away. I felt a sudden sense of sadness as I read the obituary. It brought me right back to the classroom the one room tucked in the corner right after the band room. I remember quotes of famous writters and photos covered the walls. He was that one teacher kids wanted to have and I'm so glad to say I was one of the lucky ones. I reflected today a lot thinking about how much I like to read and write and blog. How much I enjoy all aspects of language arts. It's amazing to think that one person could have such an impact even now today 27 years ago. I read what some of my classmates or fellow upper and lower classmen wrote and wow he was one hell of a teacher to have touched so many lives. Tonight I'm greatful to have known him. Dad look for Mr. Norton and share some stories with him for I think  you two would get along great.

A year in the making

It's hard to believe that a tag on a FB post would had brought me to this blogging journey. It started when a friend reached out to me inviting me to a grief workshop. When I attended I never knew that only 9 months after losing you dad still felt like day one. I never knew how deep the hurt went and how angry I was and yet how scared and how much I miss you. It's been a little over a year that I sat in front of my laptop resting on my lap and typed away. It's been so helpful for me to refect on you Dad and the long road of grief. It has made me smile, laugh, and cry and reminisce about the father/daughter bond we have.
I have shared my blog with friends and family who have lost their dad maybe my words would comfort them like they have comforted me or caused anger and tears for I have too learned that grief is an ugly thing that everyone handles differently. I will continue to blog my feelings and refections of you dad for I've learned that each word still makes you feel alive in my heart and mind. I love you dad and miss you more everyday. My tears are still real and that will never end. I will someday smile more smiles than shead tears but till then I will blog my thoughts and feelings about you the man I call my dad. Loved forever and missed everyday by your little girl.

I talk to you.....

It's not very often that I don't talk to you. I don't mind having conversations with you. Some days it's two or three times some days it's more and some days it's less. It amazing how a one way conversation with your dad can make you feel better. A piece of me wants to think that he is hearing me and that if I'm asking him for help or support he's giving it. I think I get comfort in knowing that maybe not physically right by my side I know he's there or at least he is always listening to me, and some days that's just what I need.

Only a memory

Came across a post today talking about our trip to Disney 2 years ago. Laurens First trip to Disney. Little did we know it would be the last trip ever with my dad. He loved Disney and I'm so happy he experienced Laurens First time riding rides meeting princess's and everything else. Its hard to say that we will never capture those memories again with him. But I will for sure hold the memories we have within my heart's our hearts forever.

Broken. . .

BROKEN: trying to pick up the pieces and put them back where they once were. I'm struggling to even find the pieces and some are just not fitting back to where they once were. I don't know why but I'm broken. Put yourself together I tell myself but I just cant or wait when I think that the last piece will fix me I realize I'm more broken than I was before.

I was scared

So when you lose a parent you grip even more tightly to the one you have left. Or well that's how it feels for me. I talk with my mom every night and when she has the day off its more like 3 to 5 times a day. We have always been close even when my dad was alive. Well the other day, I felt indeed fear, I never heard from my mom and that is so unlike her, I called my brothers home thinking maybe she was watching his kids no answer sent him.a text it went un answered . So I stopped in. I was scared to death to turn the key to the locked door and cautiously looked around to see if anything was out of place or felt interrupted. Then I feared walking the hall to the bedroom, fear I would find her dead, (blunt yes but the fear was real) nothing. My girls hugged the kitchen walls of the house as I looked around the fear was so real for them too. I left just as I get a text from my brother stating he had her and they were shopping. My mom called me later on that day and I told her she needs to give me a heads up. I was worried. She apologized but I guess I don't want her to feel like I'm babysitting but ilyet I need her to understand in which I think she does. But I was scared terrified really.

The last time. . . .

I pass the place. The white building with the tarred lot, with a small white overhang roof and the just plain look of a building where sadness comes to gather. I drive by this building at least 3 times a week. I glance over and sometimes there are cars and then sometimes it's just empty looking. I suddenly get the image of you there. The image of you laying so peacefully surrounded with photos, memories and above all love. This was the place, the last place I got to see you I spoke but you could not speak back, I cried over you but you could not wipe my tears. I laughed about memories but that was all I had you could not share another story and laugh along.
I remember we could not bring you to your final resting place cause mother nature packed us with a huge snowfall that winter so we waited for spring. When I would have one of those days I would drive by just to feel close to you, just to feel like I could hear you tell me it was ok or that you loved me. It's strange how when I now see the building how much floods into my mind and heart.