Saturday, November 1, 2014

Day One Thousand One Hundred and Forty-Six

The Second Year


Two years have passed, and yet, I still don't think I've fully comprehended that truth. Yesterday was hard. It was sweet. It was a mix of emotions that even your granddaughter felt from deep inside my womb. We miss you dearly, Daddy. More than you could ever realize. But the hope of your eternity after receiving Christ as your Savior keeps us going. Most times, it's easy for me to find words to explain how I feel, but yesterday, baby sissy Morgan said it beautifully:

"I contemplated if I should write anything at all today. I wasn't sure how I would feel waking up today, it's only 11:23 and I've cried three times already. I turned on the radio and Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews came on and I completely lost it. I remember this day two years ago excited that it was Halloween and that my dad and I were going to have dinner and I was going to tell him that he was going to be a grandpa again. He passed away before we were able to have dinner that day, driving to his house with all the ingredients for the dinner I never made. I am glad that one of the last things that I told him was "I love you" but regardless I still felt like I didn't get to say goodbye.
I am happy that Jake and you could play your weird online games together. I am grateful that you got to walk Kendall down the isle at her wedding. I'm glad that you got to see and hold your first grandchild thanks to Ellie. I'm glad to see that you got autographs for Shelby from diabetic singers when she found out she was diabetic. I'm glad to see you at my graduation. With all the little things in between I know you are missed more than ever.
Today will be a hard day as I think about the two years of things that you have missed, another grandson, another child getting married, and a new granddaughter on the way. I know you would be proud of us and where we are at in our lives but regardless it's hard that you aren't physically apart of it. You are missed and you are loved. I hope you are resting easy and am thankful you give us little signs to know you're still around. I love you dad.
To anyone still reading this be safe today and keep your loved ones close to your heart."

Raw emotion is the most beautiful form. Thank you for your vulnerability, Morgan. Dad would be so proud of the woman you've become, the mother that you are, and the friend that you strive to be. 


And although yesterday was met with some tears and deep grief, it was also met with big smiles and great wishes. As we remembered the life of my Daddy, we celebrated the life of our roomie. It was the extra joy in birthday festivities that helped keep my mind settled on Bigger, Beautiful, more Hopeful things. Happy 25th Birthday, Scott. 
We miss you Dad.

And something worth mentioning:
The last time my dad dressed up for Halloween, he costumed himself as a member of the Blue Man Group. His head was already bald - a side effect of chemo, radiation, and the razor blade - so the outfit was an obvious choice. He painted his entire head blue (hands too), dressed in all black, and celebrated the night while cancer coursed through his body. I didn't remember that memory of him until yesterday, when Scott walked into our home dressed as a Blue Man. It was the most bittersweet moment of the day, but now that I reflect back on it, it only brings a smile to my face. Little signs. Just like Morgan said.

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