Today it’s been a decade since my dad died. At first I started to say it’s been ten years since I lost him, but that didn’t sound right. As much as I miss him, I never feel as if I’ve “lost” him. He never seems absent to me. Rather it feels as if our relationship has been altered to fit our new circumstances–like he’s crossed through a magical wardrobe or passed through a wrinkle in time. He’s no longer huggable, which is a definite downside to this phase in our relationship, but the trade off is that there’s a fluid, intuitive connection between us that exceeds what we had when we were just an arms length away. But despite the continued love between us, I really miss having him here.
Image may be NSFW.
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In memory of my “old life” with my Dad, my husband helped me find this video. It reminds me of why his absence still feels so big–he’d always showed up in a million small places. He was this guy for so many of us. He’s my role model.
