A Post a Day At a Time

Today I've been thinking a lot about last year. Last year's NaBloPoMo... Last year's excitement. Last year's worries. Last year's happiness. Last year's memories.

And last year's comments. Last year Dad wrote comments. On here and on Ben and Sam's blogs. Make sure you look at the comments on those posts I listed. Dad wrote comments on most of them. All of them break my heart a little, but this one especially:
"Thanks Becky. I cried a little as well,,,,I sometimes have morning sickness,,,am I pregnant? I too would like to see a little girl in your life. I would like to see one in mine, cause I remember the relationship that my daughters and all my nieces had with my dad. I want to be that kind of grandfather in a little girls life. But I also think of my three grandsons and I wouldn't trade one of them for a little girl. So thanks Becky, regardless of the outcome we are all waiting with bated breath."

Why can't he be here to be that grampa for Hannah? And the boys? And the rest of us?

And last year at this time I wrote that by this year at this time I was hoping all the hard stuff would be over. I was looking forward to "By this time next year". Which kills me. It kills me to think of me last year wishing for this year.

I know I've written this before, but this is still not real to me. Somehow, in my heart, I have this feeling that this is all wrong, and somehow it will be fixed. No matter how many times my head tries to get my heart caught up to reality, I still feel like I am on hold with some customer service line, just waiting for whoever is in charge to figure out what happened to my order, and refund me my missing dad.

And so, instead of facing this year's reality, I find myself wandering through last year's memories. Wishing I could go back. Wishing this wasn't real. Wishing for a comment that won't be there. Wishing there was a way... And honestly, feeling very angry and betrayed that there isn't. There isn't a way to bring him back, to fix this, and somehow I have to figure out a way to face it without having my heart ripped out.

But I got through this month. My first NaBloPoMo without my dad reading all my posts and commenting.


  1. I went back through my old posts too and read all his comments. He hadn't seen me in years, and still all the comments for me. He even mentioned me on his blog once, when I spent my first Christmas with Peter's family. He told me he was praying that I'd really feel a part of a new family and that I wouldn't miss my mom and dad too much...after calling everyone in BC babies for taking his mom and dad away for their first Christmas not spent is Saskatchewan. It made me laugh, and cry. Sigh.

    I'm sorry he couldn't comment. I bet he did, in Heaven to Jesus and Grandpa. To Jonathan and Melissa's kids "there's your Auntie Becky, isn't she great?"

    I know that's nothing, not when you're going through what you are, but I know he's got to be so proud of you, and I'm so sorry he can't tell you himself, with a big hug and a kiss for your kids. I love you. Love reading your blog.

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  3. sorry - stupid thing posted twice.

  4. I miss all the comments too and how he would tease me and make me laugh.

    I think of him about a thousand times a day.

  5. I am thankful for the internet on days like that. I love reading his comments on every ones blog. I love reading his blog a lot too. I think I have read almost every single post and I am so thankful for them because I got to know him through a lot of them.

  6. {{hugs}} I'm so sorry. My heart aches for you.


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