One Year

Dear Dad,

It’s been one year since I saw you last.

One year since I gave you a hug or felt your big hand on mine.

The hardest year of my life.

I’ve been thinking of all the things you have missed this year. That’s probably what makes me sad the most. I just wish you were here to enjoy all the moments with us.

You would be so proud of mom.  Sure, she has had hard days adjusting to a completely different lifestyle, but she has done it with grace and dignity.

I am so thankful she didn’t shut down and stop living her life since your passing because that would’ve robbed me of a mom and the girls of their Granny.

She faces each day with courage and bravery and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

This year we redid the house for mom.  It made me sad mudding over all the holes in the wall that you had made from having seizures or falls.  Our main goal with the remodel was to make it safer for mom. I feel better with her by herself knowing there are dead bolts on all the doors and everything in working order.

Your grandkids are growing like weeds.

Tyler is taller than Julie now and hopes to reach me one day.  We all know that will take him quite a long time since I get my height from you.

Liz is in full tween mode and think she’s too cool for school. But is still as kind and tender hearted as they come like you.

Emily is no longer a baby and turning into a young lady.  She is still her sassy, goof ball self.

Zach played basketball this year and I know you would’ve been so proud sitting in the stands watching him. He still makes us all laugh daily.

This year was really rough on both Julie and I.  Not only because of missing you, but Zach and Liz were both diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes within two months of each other.

Diabetes has been SO hard and when I think there are days I just can’t stand it anymore, I think of how you always handled your trials with faith and a smile, so I keep pressing on. Liz and Zach are both true heroes and haven’t let their disease slow them down!

I constantly remember what you told Julie the day of your brain surgery.  “Being in the hand’s of God, you don’t worry about nothing.”

Julie took a new job as CFO at a different hospital and excels at what she does! We both know we got our smarts from you and not mom and we are thankful for that! HA

Chris graduated with his specialist degree this year. He makes me so proud! He’s using your favorite fishing pole on Current River this summer and loves it. Makes me glad it can be put to good use. Mom gave Matt and the boys each a pole too.

I think of you so often.  The first few weeks/months, I would break down and cry every time I remembered something about you.  I still do occasionally, but I am learning to smile through the memories and am so thankful for them.

June 2 will always be a hard day. This whole year has been hard with all the “firsts”. I smile today knowing you are probably fishing up in Heaven and wishing we wouldn’t be sad about you.

Through your death, I have learned that life is a very fragile gift.

I have learned to slow down and enjoy little moments.  For it’s the “little” memories that usually mean the most.

Thank you for the memories you left and lessons you taught. Those are what helped me get through this year.

Love always,

Jen