Today it has been 8 years since my dad passed away.
I still resent the fact that he only got to be a grandpa to my twins for one, brief weekend.
I still wear his USMC t-shirt and sweatshirt when I need to feel him close.
I still remember the feel of his hand that I held during his very last breaths.
I have his "cankles", his sense of humor, and his mad dancing skillz.
My daughters each have a 'look' they do when they are being silly and I have to do a double-take to make sure it isn't him.
He still comes to me sometimes in my dreams to let me know he's ok, that he's in a good place, that we will be reunited some day.
I still wake up from those dreams with and empty feeling and burst into tears.
Eight years ago today
I realized how precious life is.
I stopped sweating the small stuff.
But I also expreienced true regret - wishing I had said, done, been
Happy early Father's Day Dad.
Miss you forever and always.
For more posts on my dad read: