Saturday, January 21, 2012

6 Years Ago Today...

I lost my biggest cheerleader, the first man to ever tell me he loved me, my greatest role model, the man whose eyes look back at me in the mirror, and the man whose name I bear.

A lot can happen in 6 years:
Jobs come and go.
So do friends.
So do homes.
Kitties leave us too, but Nermal makes her arrival in very loud and noticeable ways.
Family relationships change, mostly for the better.
Colons are regularly checked by professionals to ensure proper working order.
Careers shift as I spend more and more time on my mat, contemplating all that's happened, all that's happening and all that's yet to happen.

All I know is that some days it seems like only yesterday you were here and others, it seems like a lifetime ago. But when it comes right down to it, it's been 2196 days since I've had a bear hug from you and heard you tell me that you love me.

Sometimes I think I hear a whisper, but I know that can't be were anything but quiet. And the harder you tried to be, the louder you were.

I know that I've seen you in Mother Nature's beauty, in the eyes of a buck deer, but it's not the same. And it can't ever be. And as much as my head knows this to be true, my heart still can't wrap itself around that awful truth.

And so I'm left to carry you there, in my heart, and in my memory, and hope that the lessons that you taught me and the love that you showered upon me while you were here, will be enough to see me through. I hope so.

I love you, Dad.