It’s been another tough, impossible afternoon, the kind of afternoon where my throat is a painful lump and breathing hurts. I’m on a precipice of another long weekend. I dread the additional time. Just more time to grieve and hurt. My tired physical body will appreciate the break, though.
I miss Dad’s encouraging words through the week. He’d always offer me positive words trying to get me past the frustrations of work and life. He’d hand me CDs and books and DVDs when I saw him for grocery pick ups on Tuesdays and Fridays to open my heart and mind and sustain my soul.
He’d often offer to host Friday “pizza and wine” (a Dad classic) or some other dinner ordered in where none of us would have to lift a finger and could just enjoy each other’s company. Just to celebrate the week and enjoy a few laughs, and maybe he’d sneak in a computer technical question or two and playing a bit of something he’d taped on the PVR.
Earlier in the week he already would have been inviting us over for Remembrance Day and coffee and apple turnovers. He’d be letting me know when the Oilers are playing this weekend and I’d be wincing about late starts and my early bedtimes. He’d let me know via email with web links that the Leonid meteor shower arrives tonight.
I miss you so much. 💔
