Some of you may have noticed I’ve been MIA for a while now. There’s a reason for that. Every little girl views her father as the first hero in her life. On August 31st, I lost mine. He was 75 years old and taken from us suddenly and without warning. Since then, I haven’t not had the will to read or write romance. It’s nearly impossible to think about love and happily-ever-afters when your heart is broken.
Instead, I’m finding consolation in reading books like Heaven Is For Real, The Shack, and Many Lives, Many Masters. I’m falling back on my faith, seeking comfort in the knowledge that I will see him again. I’ve also opened myself up to messages from the other side. I’ve found that things that on the surface may seem odd, strange, or coincidental take on a new meaning when I pay attention and connect the dots. I truly believe my dad has sent signs of comfort, letting me know he’s okay and still around. I’m keeping a log of these incidences and may blog about them at some point. But right now they’re a little too personal to share.
Thanksgiving was tough, as I’m sure many firsts without him will be from now on. Still, I did have things to be thankful for. I gave thanks that we were able to celebrate my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary two years ago with my brother and sister and all the grandkids at Emerald Isle. I am thankful that last summer we spent a week RVing with my parents through Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. I’m thankful that 3 weeks before he passed, we were able to spend a week at Garden City Beach with dad, where he played in the sand surrounded by all 4 of his grandchildren. Those are memories my children will always cherish of their grandfather. But most important of all is I’m so very thankful that as we hugged our goodbyes at the end of that beach vacation, the last words my father and I said to each other were “I love you.”
I’m slowly working through my grief and will eventually get back to writing. Some days are better than others, while at other times it’s very hard for this daddy’s girl to make it through the day. After all, daddies aren’t suppose to die, and little girls shouldn’t lose their heroes.
I love you daddy.