I was going to post a cheerful video of some kind of celebration song off of youtube, but I couldn't remember which ones I've used in NaBloPoMos of the past... So I looked at all of my end of the month posts to see which ones I've used before.

At first things were going fine, and then I came to 2009. Which hurt to read. So I read the first paragraph and moved on. I figured 2008 couldn't be worse, but I think it actually hurt more. I'd forgotten about what inspired the whole 2008 post and the comment from my dad about it. I'd forgotten that he mentioned how much he would love being a grampa to a little girl. (Which, of course, he did... For the short time that he got to do that.)

I miss Dad's comments on here. I don't let myself think about it often, and I try not to dwell on how much I miss him everywhere, all the time, in all situations, but it's been a rough week I suppose and seeing those things he'd written pulled it all up to the front of my mind again...

Last night I was talking with someone about parenthood and we got on the topic of appreciating. She thought that losing someone close, like dad, should make it easier to appreciate. And it should. I would have thought that too, before losing him. But the thing is, it doesn't really, at least not without a LOT of work.

Losing someone close makes you sad. So sad. Sad like never before. And angry. And empty. And lost and scared and hopeless and bitter. And just aching. And all of those feelings can be so overwhelming that it is often very difficult to even be there for the little people who need you, let alone to appreciate them the way you should.

If you can get past all that then yes, you appreciate, maybe even in a whole new way, but sometimes it is with a desperation that takes your breath away. Often in your happiest moments you feel the loss the most, and it's easy to let that turn into sadness or bitterness or fear again. It just sneaks up on you.

Like Becca. She fills me with deep and piercing joy. She's amazing. She's perfect. And she's so loved. She makes me so happy. But... Oh I can hardly type through the tears... Her grampa isn't here. And her grampa would have loved her with eveything in him. I picture him holding her, in one of her fancy zebra striped outfits, and I can see the love that would have been there in his eyes... The love he talked about when he said, "I want to be that kind of grandfather in a little girls life."

Do you see what I mean?

It's incredibly difficult to appreciate without missing and wishing. It's "only" been three years, so I don't know, maybe that will change. We just had it SO good. We appreciated, I really feel we did, especially after Dad was diagnosed. We appreciated every chance we had to be together, every hug, and all the laughter, and the loss of so many of those things is just agonizing now.

So there it is. Big things and small. I appreciate and I miss.


  1. I get it. Sweet Becca. He'd have been crazy about her. I'm sorry Becky, I can't tell you how much I wish he were here.

  2. Love you. And Becca. And her mommy. And I wish your dad was here to enjoy all the new kids in your family. It really isn't fair.

  3. Yep. I feel it. I wish dad was here a lot to appreciate all the kids. Because he did the most even before he got sick.


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