Today my dad would have been 79 and I love him so much and I wish he could have lived forever.
Welcome to grief, where every so often, a day can still kick you in the ass. Almost 11 years on, it’s better than it used to be but the ache is still there and the pain flares up periodically. It seems so strange to me that so much of who I am now, what my life is now — he wasn’t a part of. I’ve moved, gone through two career changes, become a dog person and a knitter and someone who sometimes rocks purple hair. I’m on my second new car since he died and man, would he have loved Bella.
I’m taking my mom out to dinner tonight. Mexican, because that was his favorite — after steaks. She likes to honor the day like this and so do I, partly for my benefit and partly for hers. And then hopefully tomorrow I can wake up and the feelings will have receded and I can think of him with fondness, but not tears.