Ramblings...

I can't seem to stop reliving it, in the quiet moments. The times when I can't fall to sleep, or fall back to sleep. The times when I'm driving. Or just when my mind isn't otherwise occupied. That's when it comes back. That second when my world crumbled around me. Does that sound dramatic? It's the truth. The words my poor husband had to speak haunt me. And I feel the panic rising in my chest all over again. I want so badly to be able to go back to life before that moment. But of course, there is no going back.

Then there are other times when I feel like I'm going to be ok. I feel like my amazing Dad (and of course my amazing Mom) prepared me to take the hits life hands out and even though this sucks harder than I could've imagined, I'll be ok. I'll miss him. Of course I will. Every day. But I can do it.

In the almost two weeks since he died, so many people have told me how wonderful, great, amazing my Dad was. But of course, I already knew. The things they're telling me are true. He wasn't perfect, of course, but he was a remarkable human being. He was kind, loving, honest, brilliant, hilarious, cantankerous, crotchety...did I mention hilarious?

There are a million and a half things I already miss about him. I miss his hugs. I miss his Dad smell. I miss his voice. I miss him calling me Das. I miss his laugh. I miss the way he clapped when he thought something was REALLY funny. I miss the way he could change my son's mood in a split second. I miss the way he looked at my Mom as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful, even after almost 48 years as a couple. I miss his ability to listen and give absolutely spot-on advice. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

I hate this. I hate it. I know it's part of life. I know how absolutely crazily blessed I was to have this amazing man as a Dad for 37 years. But I hate it.