Two years ago today my dad died. I still find that incredibly unbelievable. That I've lived in a world without him for two whole years. How did that happen? It doesn't feel that long ago at all. Some days hit me harder than others. When I think of something he'd love to hear about, when I read a news article or hear something particularly interesting or funny and I want to share it with him. And for that split second I forget that he's gone. And I'll never get to tell him anything ever again. Or hear his laugh or give him a hug.
I'm not sad all the time. Just sometimes. It helps that he knew how I felt about him and I knew how he felt about me. We both just knew and that knowledge brings me some sense of peace. I often wonder what he'd think about my decisions, about my life. I know he'd be proud of me, even if he might not always agree. He was always so proud of me. And N and the boys and couldn't hear enough stories and details of our life together. I miss him. Quite a lot.
Tonight I ate carrot cake as my small little way to celebrate his life and in my head I can just hear him biting into some really good food, closing his eyes and saying 'mmm, to die for' in this booming voice. My memories of him are all around me and today I needed those reminders.
Here's a video I made years ago when he was getting more and more ill. You can watch me fight back tears as I share a personal anecdote of one of his trips to visit me. Incidentally, he bought me the entire Boxcar Children series because I adored the books so much. And he'd have bought me that copy of Charlotte's Web. The only book I mention in this video that doesn't have some connection to my dad is The Book of Questions.
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