Two Years

I'm waking up this morning feeling sad, but I knew going to bed that today was going to be difficult.  It has now been two years since my Dad died, but sometimes I feel the loss so profoundly that the grief feels fresh and new. It is hard to believe that it has been two years since I've heard his voice. I wish I could pick up the phone and call him, to seek his advice or just to tell him about the kids. It hurts when I realize that his phone number now rings to somebody else, and that I won't be able to talk with him again. 

Today, whenever I feel sad I'm going to redirect the grief into doting and spoiling my kids. We're going to play some extra games, make some cookies and just spend time having fun. I don't think it will be hard to convince Robby to curl up on the couch with me tonight to watch Karate Kid (again.)  I know that my Dad would prefer today be spent doting and spoiling the children (his grandchildren) instead of dissolving into an emotional mass and crying.

I'm going to try to get all of my crying out of the way now so that I can be at least quasi-productive today. If I can stay busy enough, hopefully the anniversary will pass quickly.  I don't know what else to say, except that I miss my Dad.