Dear Dad...

I held onto this as a draft for a long time before deciding to hit publish. I don't often let people in on this side of me, even my husband. It's not pretty, and it makes others sad, and it's hard to say without crying (which I did), and it's really not my "brand" as The Gym Mom. However, there are people that I need to let in, and there are other people that get it - people who, like me, might not be able to say the things I've waited years to say.  So with that, I pushed publish. 

Hi dad,

I've been thinking about you a lot this week. It's always a tough time of year. This year seems bigger somehow, though. Like 10 years is supposed to be something monumental.

I miss you, dad. I miss you so much that it hurts. My heart hurts. Whoever said that "it gets easier with time" was a liar. The pain may be less frequent, it has to be in order to function, right? But as more time passes it hurts deeper. The hurt is more intense. I miss your laugh and I miss our drives and I miss your stories. I miss you, dad.

Sometimes I am angry with you, dad. You're supposed to be here. You have missed too much. You will miss too much. You were supposed to be at my wedding and you were supposed to hold my babies and you're supposed to listen when I've had a long week. You're not here for those things. Sometimes I am so angry, dad, and that covers up the hurt for a little bit.

My kids don't know enough about you, dad. It's my fault, really. I try to tell them about you, but I don't get very far before I lose it and the hurt comes back again. It floods through me, making it hard to tell them about all the hours we spent in your truck, just so I could visit their dad. It makes it hard to tell them about our camping trips and our family Sundays. You would love them, dad. I know I should do better. I want them to know you, but it's so hard. I want my kids to know more about you, dad.

I just want to make you proud, dad. Every single day I want you to be proud of me. I graduated college, dad, just like you told me I had to - no matter what. And believe me, there were more than a few obstacles at times. But I promised you, and I made sure I kept my promise. I work so hard, and I wish you were still here to push me. Like the time I was trying to get my front pike roll in the living room. You didn't let me quit. I just want to make you proud, dad.

I need one more day with you, dad. There are things I need to show you; to tell you. Sometimes you show up in my dreams, but even in the dream I know you're gone. I need one more day to tell you I love you. To write down all the stories and memories that died with you. To show you videos of the things you've missed, and to have you make some more Chex Mix. I need one more day with you, dad.

It hurts, dad. It always hurts. I don't like to let people in when I'm missing you, dad. They don't get it. Losing you when we did; the way we did. You don't recover from that. When there is no "why" it's hard to make peace and move on. Mostly you just find a way to keep moving forward. It's not really something I would ever want people to understand. It hurts, dad.

I love you, dad.