May 19th

I hate today. Today marks 13 years. 13 years that my dad has been gone.  It doesn’t seem like it has been that long; it seems like it was just a few weeks ago. It’s amazing how something is so embedded in your memory so vividly yet I can’t remember what I wore last week. I remember the exact thing I did the day he died, our last phone conversation and the emotions I felt that night after hearing my mom say those words, “Your daddy had a heart attack.” I literally thought I was in the middle of a bad dream.

I think back at how my life has changed over the past 13 years and there are so many moments that I wish he had been a part of- good and bad. So many times I wish I could pick up the phone and just talk to him, get his advice but mostly have one last hug. There are so many things I wish I would have told him but never got the chance.  

 When I was little, after my parents divorced, I would have issues hanging up the phone because I didn’t want him to go but I also felt like I was hanging up on him (I was 6 so this was the mind of a 6 year old) so he started this little game- we would say “I love you” and he would count to three- 1,2,3 then we were supposed to hang up at the same time.  I would get real quiet pretending I hung up not even thinking about there not being a dial tone on the other end. He would say, “You didn’t hang up!” So he would do it again 1-2-3 still no dial tone. This game went on literally for years, way on into my teens and adult hood. It was just something we did.  I had the chance to talk to him a few hours before he passed. I just had something telling me I needed to call my daddy- so I did. We had a nice talk that day and he had invited me to come over that weekend. Then it was time to hang up and for the last time we played our silly little game… “I love you… 1-2-3”

 You can sometimes replace people in your life or things, but you can never replace a daddy.