This year has brought a lot of painful firsts without my dad. My brother's first job, mom and dad's anniversary, the first Thanksgiving, Christmas, every holiday. The babies first swimming lesson, Home Depot "build-it" day, the first day of school. That was supposed to be "our time". Two whole hours just me and my dad while the kids were at school. Now it's two whole hours of him absent from the place he should be. While each first is just as painful as the one before, I can't help but think of the lasts. One year ago today was the last time. The last time I saw my sweet Daddy's eyes. The last broad smile. The last joke about the hospital food. The last time I stroked his swollen arm, or rubbed his aching back. The last time I saw him with my precious babies. The last time I prayed with him, and held his hand so tight. The last time I laid my head on his chest. The last time I hugged his neck. The last time I sang to him and kissed his head.
Parenting with Fear
3 hours ago