I have friend who've lost a parent in the recent years. I offer condolences ask how I can help... as they deal with their loss I tell them "I've been there, it gets easier."
I fail to tell them that I'm still waiting for that to happen. You see I still miss Pops.
I sleep in his room, now redecorated with my furniture, I have pictures of him all over my dresser, and a million times a day I think of something that he'd find amusing... or a political opinion of mine he'd love to fight about.
He'd love my Bella and think Molly was silly. He'd laugh when I told him I was going Vegan and he'd love to have a beer when I get off of work.
Most of the time I can think of things like this... pause for a minute and move on.
It gets harder this time of year... holidays... family... remembering that night 11 years ago. It throws that ache back into my chest and brings tears back to my eyes.
I think of my husband he'll never know, the kids he'll never meet... the aisle he'll never walk me down. And when I'm feeling especially sad I'll have a mini sob fest and get it out of my system.
But I never stop missing him. I think I'd worry more if I did. Instead I live on, missing and honoring him in my own little ways.
With my cowboy boots and Conway Twitty songs... my sailor mouth... and everything I do.
So today... in honor of my Pops I'll be popping open a beer, with his favorite girl Mems when I get off work... and listening to some George Jones.
Love you Pops.
For last year's very special blog click here.