Sometimes, I'm okay. Then, it hits me like a brick. My Dad is dead. I'm never going to see him again as long as I live on this earth. I'll never receive the comfort that only a daddy can provide his little girl. It's the little things. Like seeing my nieces and nephew knowing how much joy they would bring him. Seeing sweet Ellie, with her fiery personality, knowing she'll never know her Paw-Paw, from whom she got those beautiful blue eyes. How my Mom has no one to share her moments with anymore and how it hurts her more than she lets on and more than I could ever imagine. There are days when I don't want to get out of bed because of the crippling pain this causes. Yes. It has been almost three years (in August) but no matter how much time passes, it still hurts. A lot.
I miss him more than any amount of words I could write or say. I'll never understand why he was taken from me so soon. I won't pretend like I don't still ask God why. But, I know this- God is faithful. He is my comfort in times of weakness and in my weakness He is made strong. I am certainly weak right now- but it is well. My Dad is with Jesus. He's happier and healthier than he ever could have been on this earth. I miss him, and I'll miss him forever. The beautiful thing is that I don't have to understand why. God holds me in his hands. Tonight, I ask that he hold me a little tighter.
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