Good night Dad

Every night before bed I sit and stare at the picture of my Dad. I talk to him, tell him about my day all the ups and downs and crazy things that happened. I can see his reaction to each story. It is almost like for a second I forget that he is really gone. For that brief second I actually feel as if I am talking to him. Today is three months since he died and I ache more today than the night that we found out. At this time three months ago I was sitting at my parents house trying to understand what was going on. I do not remember much of that night, which for me is a blessing. I do remember crawling in bed with my mom and holding her hand while we slept. Now three months later we are all holding hands. Mom, Julie, Leroy, Brian, Stacy, Rexer and I. Because that is what we do. We have really hard days that never seem to end, but some how they do. I miss him every second of everyday. I hear his voice still and I can smell him. I laugh and cry often when I think about memories with him. He was my Daddy and I was the stereotypical "Daddy's girl". I look in the mirror and I see him. I look at my children and I see him. He is all around me and I take comfort in that. Today while unpacking Ry's old clothes to get ready for Jake to wear I found a shirt that said "Grandpa's right hand man". I remember when my mom bought the shirt. Dad loved it. I am pretty sure that he cried when he saw Ryan wearing it. I cannot wait to put it on Jake, if Dad were here he would have two little right hand men.