Heartache

I was determined not to write about my dad. I didn't see the point, because well, he's been with Jesus for three years now, and I should be ok. Right?

Well, I am not. The 3rd anniversary of his death was Sunday, and the ache of missing weighed heavily on me. I appeared to be "ok". After all, I am supposed to be happy that he is whole, healthy and with his Lord and Savior. Then...I look at my two sons. My oldest met him, and doesn't remember it. He knows Pop-Pop by pictures, but he doesn't know about Pop-Pop's sense of humor. His love for laughing, and having fun. He just knows PopPop is in heaven with Jesus because he got sick. Liam will never know him either. Well, except for the stories I tell them.

So, while everyone seems to have forgotten my wonderful Daddy (with the xception of my brothers and my stepmom), I will just say, "Daddy, if I had known that our last hug was going to be our last, I would have held on tighter and longer. I wouldn't have been in a rush to get ready to go out that night. And I would have come down sooner. I know you didn't mean the words you said in the hospital, and I forgave you. I love you. I miss you. I need you. And until I get to see you again, in our heavenly home, I will continue to ache for you. I'll try to not feel bitter and hateful toward those whose father is still here. You wouldn't want that. I'll see you soon, Daddy."

In His Love,
Amy