I Miss My Father.

I’ve often wondered when grief would show up with regards to my father’s death. However it’s not the “Please, God, I’ll do anything if only you’d bring him back.” It’s the doing something with my own children and then thinking “I remember doing this with my own dad…” and then realizing that you can never, ever go back to those times that you had with him; that you can never speak to your father ever again because he’s no longer there to talk to. That’s when the sadness comes out. I know that there’ll always be times like this. But right now when the pain is raw like this, that’s when it hurts the most. I miss him a lot.

Then I realize how strong he must have been to live his life the way he did especially when he lost his own father at a young age. How many times he must have thought "I wish I could tell my own father this..." How many times oould he have collapsed in grief in not being able to do things with his own father or being able to show his father that he had become a father in his own right. Yet, he stood strong, lived his life and proved himself to be a strong, loving father, over and over again.

At least I've gotten that chance to show my own father that I've become a father. My father had the chance to become a grandfather and to see his own grandchildren. And for that opportunity I'm truly grateful. From here on in, it is my own path that has to be walked. Yet I do miss my father.