His life

I'm going to write about something. Something I hope you can understand.


I just listened to something.. I think it was Wayne Dyer. He said " my grandmother went into the hospital at 130 pounds, after her life left her, her body was still 130 pounds. ".

After my daddy passed away so quickly I thought I could never get over it.
Those first few days or maybe even months I felt the heart ache. My first love was gone.
Whatever he was to anyone, he was my daddy and I was his little girl. He worried about me right up to those last hours of his life. Something I thought was silly.  Until recently my son was in a accident, and whatever his age or our relationship his well being will always be number one to me. I get that now Dad.
I called you that night and you didn't answer. And now looking back I know I couldn't have done anything for you. Since you've passed I think I've had this conversation with you often.
And I know it's ok.

My birthday rolled around a few short months after you died. And I wanted to be with you. So I drove to Cartwright to celebrate my birthday with you.
I went to your grave that cold December morning. The sun was shining so pretty on your cross through the trees. And immediately I knew you weren't there. That you were with me everywhere now. I didn't need to look for you.. your body was placed there. But your spirit lives on, and In us , your children, And your grandchildren.

I speak to him often and ask for advice. And his answer most always was and in my mind will be ...  "well do it, if that's what you want, do it".
It took me a long time to get back to Cartwright that last couple of years, I guess knowing your physical body wasn't there to cook me some good grub, or make me a cup of coffee while we sat and watch Archie Bunker.

I wonder sometimes if I'm cold to people who need me to be more sensitive. If my blunt truth is sometimes too harsh. And I wonder if people think it's weird I stopped grieving you. Or that I think it's time to move on.
I certainly think of you alot, I wish often we had more time.
But not once did I think you left me.
I dwell in the fact you're always with me. How lucky am I, to have you watching over us.
Thanks for that too Dad.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I guess this is how i handle my grief.  I keep living.

Stay Tuned ~lc