Sunday, June 9, 2013


Today is always a hard day for me to get through without stopping whatever I'm doing and think about my Dad.  He was born on this day, June 9th, 1945.  He died on November 16, 2007 (An even harder day for me to function through).  And though each year, thinking of him hurts less and remembering him brings joy, it still can take my breath away when I realize he is not living anymore.  It was his death that made me no longer feel like a child.  I was now old enough to not only lose my grandfather but shortly after, my own father.  Something changes in you when you lose loved ones.  Minor things become nonexistent and major things are put into perspective.  

The funny thing is, when I look in the mirror I see my mother staring back at me.  But if I look hard enough, I can see little glimpses of my father.  My eyes, my laughing smile (all my Dad), my feet and my    legs, both of which have taken a beating from standing for work many years (exactly like my Dad who was a mailman for many years too).

Sometimes it feels like my Dad is just away, maybe at his home or work.  But I know he's not, and although we did not spend as much time together as we both would have liked to, it makes me smile when I think of the good times we did have, and when I look in the mirror, I see his smile too.  


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