Over the past couple of months I've found myself crying less often about my Dad's passing. He's been gone six months. When I have a dry eye for a few days in a row, I have this odd feeling. Does it hurt less? Am I forgetting him? I almost feel guilty I'm not crying.

Then it hits me. It could be sparked by anything, but the tears start. I don't hold back when I need to cry unless I'm around a lot of people. I cry in my office, in my car, in the bathroom, in the shower, and sometimes in front of my children.

Often times when I look into my babies' eyes I begin to bawl. It's in the moments of their adorable cuteness I feel deep sorrow. I'm so sad my Dad doesn't get to be here to see them. To watch them say their first words. To have goofy conversations with them as he always did with his grandchildren.

While I was on a beautiful beach for a wonderful kid-free vacation in Mexico, I found myself crying. In a moment of pure joy, I was also extremely sad. These words I read online from a widow sum up how I feel, "Joy and pain exist at the same moment within each new experience." My mom and I went on a fun trip to Portland and Seattle, and again in moments of joy I thought of my Dad. I wished he could have been there to experience those moments with us.

Navigating life without my Dad is weird, tough and straight up sucks. Many days I yell out, "WHAT THE F&*#?! WHY? WHY GOD?" I'm not really yelling AT God. I just need to say what my heart is feeling. Sometimes cussing helps. I trust in his timing, but damn it still sucks. It is likely my Dad would have needed a heart transplant if he had survived his surgery, and there is no way in hell he would have been OK with that.  So yes, I trust in God's timing.


When I'm around my immediate family the pain is more present, because we have a common bond. We loved my Dad for years and years and now he is gone. A husband, a father, a brother, a grandpa, an uncle...gone. I wish I could take everyone's pain away, but because of our intense love for my Dad we experience intense pain. It is worth it even though it feels terrible.

Thank you for following along my grieving journey. I'm not sure where I'm going when I write these posts, but it feels good to write down my thoughts.

I love you Dad.