One month
Dear Daddy...
It will be one month tomorrow since you left us to head to Heaven. It all seems like it was just yesterday when Mom called and said I needed to hurry home to see you. I have spent the last month feeling so many things: anger, depression, guilt, denial, lost, deep sadness, so many things I can't seem to find words for.
I miss you so much. I keep hoping that I will wake up from this horrid nightmare and that you will be sitting there at the kitchen table and we can sit down and talk about the mistake the Cowboys made for taking on Terrell Owens as their newest player, or talk about how darn hot it is and it's only the middle of April. I konw it's a selfish thing, but I want you back. I want you back right now. You were taken away too soon. I'm not ready to let you go. I'm not ready to say good-bye to you. Good-bye means that I lose you forever, and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you. I want to see you again.
Mom and I were so lost without you this Easter. We sat at the table looking at each other, both of us trying so hard to not break down into tears. Gram isn't doing good at all either. Mom and I think that in a matter of time, she'll be saying good-bye to us as well. That will be yet another person ripped out of my heart and taken from me. It pains me to see her how she is right now. It hurts even more trying to talk to her and being told she doesn't know me from a complete stranger. But to have two wonderful people taken from me is too much for me to face.
Fresh tears have been found as I sit here and type away, trying to bring out what has been wrapped around my heart these past 30 days. We got a card today from the nurses that took care of you while you were in CCICU. Mom and I both blamed allergies for all the tears that reading brought up to the surface. You wouldn't believe the number of cards that have been sent to us. So many people loved you Daddy. So many people. You touched the lives of many. I can't find it now, but I've been carrying around the poem I read at the services on that heartbreaking day. It was about having to say good-bye because it was time for the pain to go away even though it was something I didn't want to do.
I don't know why I'm sitting here saying all of these things. Maybe it was time I needed to cry again. Maybe it's time that I face reality for just a brief moment before hiding in my shroud of denial again. There was a time last week where I could smell you around me. It was one of your favorite colognes, and I know it wasn't something that was drifting in the air like the smell of the flowers blooming or from next door doing laundry. It was YOU. I closed my eyes and could feel you holding me so tight. Now I can't see anything so I guess it's best I go back to doing things to numb my mind where I don't have to think and feel. I can't say enough how much I miss you, Daddy. I know it's incredibly selfish because if you were back, you would be sick and have to go through so much just to make it through the day. I know that where you are right now, you don't have to be around machines. You don't have to take medicine all day long. You don't have to be dependent on anyone except yourself. I just wish I could have 5 minutes with you again. Just 5 minutes. It's not that much to ask for. But I can't, and I have to come to a realization sooner or later. I love you so much, Daddy. I hope you know that. I hope you could hear us when Tex, Randy, Amanda, and I were there around you before the Angels took you Home. We love you so much, and miss you even that much more.
Your deeply devoted and loving daughter...
Julie
It will be one month tomorrow since you left us to head to Heaven. It all seems like it was just yesterday when Mom called and said I needed to hurry home to see you. I have spent the last month feeling so many things: anger, depression, guilt, denial, lost, deep sadness, so many things I can't seem to find words for.
I miss you so much. I keep hoping that I will wake up from this horrid nightmare and that you will be sitting there at the kitchen table and we can sit down and talk about the mistake the Cowboys made for taking on Terrell Owens as their newest player, or talk about how darn hot it is and it's only the middle of April. I konw it's a selfish thing, but I want you back. I want you back right now. You were taken away too soon. I'm not ready to let you go. I'm not ready to say good-bye to you. Good-bye means that I lose you forever, and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you. I want to see you again.
Mom and I were so lost without you this Easter. We sat at the table looking at each other, both of us trying so hard to not break down into tears. Gram isn't doing good at all either. Mom and I think that in a matter of time, she'll be saying good-bye to us as well. That will be yet another person ripped out of my heart and taken from me. It pains me to see her how she is right now. It hurts even more trying to talk to her and being told she doesn't know me from a complete stranger. But to have two wonderful people taken from me is too much for me to face.
Fresh tears have been found as I sit here and type away, trying to bring out what has been wrapped around my heart these past 30 days. We got a card today from the nurses that took care of you while you were in CCICU. Mom and I both blamed allergies for all the tears that reading brought up to the surface. You wouldn't believe the number of cards that have been sent to us. So many people loved you Daddy. So many people. You touched the lives of many. I can't find it now, but I've been carrying around the poem I read at the services on that heartbreaking day. It was about having to say good-bye because it was time for the pain to go away even though it was something I didn't want to do.
I don't know why I'm sitting here saying all of these things. Maybe it was time I needed to cry again. Maybe it's time that I face reality for just a brief moment before hiding in my shroud of denial again. There was a time last week where I could smell you around me. It was one of your favorite colognes, and I know it wasn't something that was drifting in the air like the smell of the flowers blooming or from next door doing laundry. It was YOU. I closed my eyes and could feel you holding me so tight. Now I can't see anything so I guess it's best I go back to doing things to numb my mind where I don't have to think and feel. I can't say enough how much I miss you, Daddy. I know it's incredibly selfish because if you were back, you would be sick and have to go through so much just to make it through the day. I know that where you are right now, you don't have to be around machines. You don't have to take medicine all day long. You don't have to be dependent on anyone except yourself. I just wish I could have 5 minutes with you again. Just 5 minutes. It's not that much to ask for. But I can't, and I have to come to a realization sooner or later. I love you so much, Daddy. I hope you know that. I hope you could hear us when Tex, Randy, Amanda, and I were there around you before the Angels took you Home. We love you so much, and miss you even that much more.
Your deeply devoted and loving daughter...
Julie