It’s been awhile since I blogged about my Dad. It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of him. I suppose it means I’m adjusting to the fact that he is gone. Perhaps it helped that I didn’t live near him and that I only saw him a handful of times during any given year. I still miss him though.
Especially when I turn on my tablet to read a book or check something online. The last picture I have of him smiling and laughing is on the backdrop. I can’t bear to take it down and I can’t bear to look at it at times. Tonight while my daughter curled up on my lap before bed, it was on sitting in front of us. She didn’t say a thing, she just swished the page across, so to get a clear screen to see the photo. As I held my little girl all snuggled up on my lap, looking at my Dad, tears began to fall upon my cheeks.
The thing that made me so sad was the fact that I won’t see that smile again. I won’t feel the hugs he gave again. That’s what brought the tears. That is what I miss.
Only ten minutes before I read an email from a friend that gave me so much joy, so much purpose, so much opportunity. I still find joy in that email, and the tears have stopped. They didn’t last too long, but I still miss my Dad. Taking the joy with the heartache is part of life I know.
I won’t quit missing my Dad, but I think I will go back to that email. He’d rather I feel joy than sadness I do believe.
Grace is a gift,