You'd think I'd be use to it by now, the cards, the mail, that was once addressed to us and now only bears my name & some that have my name and your princess. Well, it's still a reminder, it's still there, it doesn't hurt as much as before.
Kinda of a silly thought, social media puts together videos of your pictures for the past year. This is the first year you are not in my pre-made video feed. It's really just a fact of life, a fact that is still hard to fathom sometimes, a fact that can still bring tears to my eyes even on the best days.
On that same social media site, it brought up a video I made three years ago, not knowing at the time it would be your last holiday season with us. You're howling with our dogs, God I miss you. You had a way about you that kept me grounded, kept me from worrying too much, brought the silly back into the day to day. You kept me from worrying too much, reminded me to let go of the things I couldn't control and just let things happen.
I remember hearing or seeing something, all happy moments will have a speck of sadness because we'll remember the happy memory and remember you were not here to share them. I'll never forget how happy & proud I was to see your princess cross the finish line of her first cross country meet, yet tears came to my eyes, both tears of joy & sadness because you were not there to see her. She is such an amazing young woman. She is funny and getting quicker all the time, just like you. She loves to read, has a thirst for knowledge and understanding for how the world works, why people make the choices they do especially now with all that is happening in politics.
This is our 3rd holiday season with out you, another fact. Eventually the number of holidays without you will be greater than seasons with you, I dread that day, that year. It was only 8 we had as a family of three, and only half of those would be in the memories of your princess. Facts.
Memories of you last months on this earth flood my memories. I remember sitting with a friend in December of 2014, sitting in her living room, a woman I've turned to as a mom, asking her if this was your last Christmas. Walking you to the car as you took each painful step, your last trip out of our home, a place you would never see again. I still feel so bad for the words I said to you as we pulled out of the garage, I promised later I would bring you home, I did, but you were in a box and that is where you stay. You're in a box on our mantle, another fact of life.
I love you handsome man.
take care
