I was not planning a post for today. But I have suddenly been struck by such sadness, such grief. I read on twitter about a woman who just lost her husband to Cancer. I read several of her blog entries detailing their journey. It is heartbreaking. I am nearing the one year anniversary of my Dad's death this coming Saturday. I thought I was doing pretty good. I thought I was handling it pretty well. I'm not. It is still so very raw. More raw than I realized.
As I write this I am sobbing, tears flowing out of my eyes as if I have never cried over this before. My life has changed dramatically since I last was able to have a conversation with my Dad. I imagine daily what he would tell me, how he would put his arm around me and tell me it is all going to work out. How he would advise me. What would he say? I know he would understand, I know he would support me, I know we would have many conversations.
But that is just about me. I also ache for my babies. I ache for the loss that my oldest daughter, Abby feels. She was so close to Dad. They truly had a special bond. Molly and Dad were just beginning to do all the things he did with Abby when he was diagnosed. Zach was only 4 months old when Dad's battle with Cancer began. He didn't even make it to see him turn a year old. Dad had so much to offer my kids, I hate they won't get to benefit from his knowledge, from his sense of humor, from his love of birds and flowers. Molly, even at a little over 2 when Dad died, still asks to go see him. It is amazing to me that she has any memories of him at all.
I still think of him every single time I see a mockingbird and remember the day he held my hand and told me to tell Abby anytime she sees one it is her Granddad watching over her. I hope that applies to me to, because not a day goes by I don't see one and wonder...