February 21st, 2008
I miss him. Plain and simple, I just miss him. I do okay, better than I thought I would, but as February brings this cold and snow, along with it comes memories that I try and keep locked away. Has there ever been someone in your life that you've believed to be untouchable...a rock maybe, someone that you thought could or would not ever be taken down by anyone or anything? He was my someone...but cancer got him, and damnit I HATE cancer. I'm never angry at him, he didn't want to go away, but I get angry at the cancer. I get angry that I had to watch it take him deeper and deeper into someone that neither he nor I recongnized. I get angry that I refused to have a wedding because he was not there to walk me down the aisle. I'm angry that I had to watch my "untouchable" take his last breaths knowing he would never again live another day on this earth with me. I would be alone. We used to talk, we had deep, meaningful conversations and I asked him once why, if we all die, are we still afraid of death? His answer was because it's the unknown we fear. I held my head and sobbed and said, "You have to let me know you're ok, because if I don't know that, I can't move on." He said he would, but I'm still waiting. Sometimes I think he has told me plenty of times, but I am just to dumb to see it. There was this one time that I was driving into the city, it had been the first time I was driving somewhere I didn't know since he had passed. I was scared, because as my family knows I have some awful form of traffic dyslexia which causes me to get lost simply driving around a block. It was ok when he was alive because I would always call him and he would direct me out of the wet paper bag I had been feverishly trying to escape, but this time, I was alone. My palms were sweaty as I got into the car, I looked down at my directions and started the car. As I backed out I listened..."Daddy's Hands" was on the radio. That was our song. I'm not sure whether I smiled or cried first. He wrote to me in a letter I got after he died, "And when you hear our song, Daddy's Hands, know that it's your old man smiling down on you from Heaven...I'm so proud of you Kris, and I love you so much."
It will be 4 years tomorrow since he's been gone. I can't believe I've survived this long without him. A part of me is gone. I'm not the same person I once was. I'm quieter, calmer and deeper. Sort of an extremely subdued version of my former self. I can't sit here and say I feel him with me, but I know he is. I see him in myself and my kids. I am lucky enough to have found a husband just like him, so, I'm happy. But a huge piece of my heart died with him. I'll see him again, I know I will, and while I don't want to leave my kids without a mother, I do look forward to the day I can dance with him to "Daddy's Hands" once again. So, until then, I will live the best I can and try and be the best person I can be. I will think of him each day as I have every day the past 4 years. I will try and be strong...for him...but Dad, I miss you...plain and simple, I just miss you.
