To Papa, wherever I may find him.
Two years ago tomorrow, my papa died. It's still surreal, when I pause to hold his memory in my heart for more than a moment or two. I still feel the same gnawing emptiness inside that I felt at the beginning. I don't know that I'll ever fully recover from this blow.
I found a box of old correspondences from High School. In it were one or two letters from my dad. I had completely forgotten, but when I went to my first Home Coming dance, he was out of town. He sent me a letter saying he knew I must have looked so lovely that night, and that he really missed sharing that memory with me. He then wrote something to the effect of, "I can't wait to see what the future holds. Here's to a lifetime of shared memories".
Every day that I put behind me is another stash of memories that I can't share with him.
I mourn his death. But I also mourn that it shattered me the way it did. I became a Different Girl, almost unrecognizable, so profound was my grief. I've slowly been picking up the pieces, Merry handing me the Krazy Glue as we go along.
(I simply adore her. She has been my rock throughout this whole ordeal. She has been more than just a shoulder to cry on ... no, as the sobs wracked my body, she was the one to hold me close to her heart, murmuring words that said nothing ... and everything. She is always the first to listen eagerly as I have another memory. She has been my salvation.)
As I move forward, a Daddy's Girl missing her Daddy terribly, I feel I know more about myself than I ever have. I've seen Hell, stared the Devil in eyes, and have finally told him where he can stick it. I miss my papa, but I can't allow myself to be crippled by grief any longer. I choose to grow from it.
It has taken two years to be able to say that. I choose to grow from it.
For the first time since his death, I want to visit his grave. Merry and I are going this weekend. I might take my viola and play for him.
I miss you papa. I love you. Forever.
I found a box of old correspondences from High School. In it were one or two letters from my dad. I had completely forgotten, but when I went to my first Home Coming dance, he was out of town. He sent me a letter saying he knew I must have looked so lovely that night, and that he really missed sharing that memory with me. He then wrote something to the effect of, "I can't wait to see what the future holds. Here's to a lifetime of shared memories".
Every day that I put behind me is another stash of memories that I can't share with him.
I mourn his death. But I also mourn that it shattered me the way it did. I became a Different Girl, almost unrecognizable, so profound was my grief. I've slowly been picking up the pieces, Merry handing me the Krazy Glue as we go along.
(I simply adore her. She has been my rock throughout this whole ordeal. She has been more than just a shoulder to cry on ... no, as the sobs wracked my body, she was the one to hold me close to her heart, murmuring words that said nothing ... and everything. She is always the first to listen eagerly as I have another memory. She has been my salvation.)
As I move forward, a Daddy's Girl missing her Daddy terribly, I feel I know more about myself than I ever have. I've seen Hell, stared the Devil in eyes, and have finally told him where he can stick it. I miss my papa, but I can't allow myself to be crippled by grief any longer. I choose to grow from it.
It has taken two years to be able to say that. I choose to grow from it.
For the first time since his death, I want to visit his grave. Merry and I are going this weekend. I might take my viola and play for him.
I miss you papa. I love you. Forever.