On Friday it will be 3 months since my Dad died. It’s been a terrible time of raw, honest grieving with some sprinkles of healing here and there along with a smile or two of remembrance. I miss talking to him. Still. I suppose that will never go away. I want to desperately tell him about how I had to drive my husbands pick up truck when Alyssa borrowed my car while her’s is in the shop. Daddy had one piece of stern yet loving advice to anyone driving an unfamiliar vehicle, “Just drive it!” And that advice stuck with me even to this day when driving Tommy’s truck. I would have made him proud and he would have laughed.
I miss being able to tell him that Daniella is now a proud licensed driver. I know there will be many other milestones I’ll want to tell him and wish he were here for.
He would have gotten a kick out of my work stories especially those concerning co workers. I work with really wonderful people and some of them are real characters with unique views and a quirky sense of humor.
To me it’s hard to believe only 3 months have passed since daddy died. In some ways it feels like it’s been so much longer but not in a good healing way. It feels like I’ve been missing him longer than 3 months. Yet some days it feels like it was only last week that he left us. I guess all things in grieving are “normal” meaning there is no normal.