You're on my mind so much lately. I wish I had hugged you more. I wish you had been able to make more patterns in the shop you were so proud to finally have. I wish you had gotten to see campus. No, more than that, I wish you'd gotten to walk, cancer-free, on my campus. I wish you'd lived to see your first-generation college-student daughter make the Dean's List. I wish you got to meet my friends - especially Charity, because I've talked to her so much about you. I wish you were the one who will walk me down the aisle and give me away. I wish you could see this new season of House, because it is REALLY good.
I'm glad, though, that you didn't experience my seizures and the effects thereof like Mom had to. But I wish you were there to help me through it. You were always so strong. You could help me through anything. I just wish I'd let you in more during those four or five years in high school.
Most of all, I wish I could accept that it's okay for me to still cry over you.
Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
You used to call Tommy your hero. Well, Dad, you were mine.
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I am no one capable of truly sympathizing with the relentless feelings I know must come with these thoughts, these memories. All of them relentless, good and bad, a bombardment of emotion I seriously doubt I can tap into. I cannot say if that is a shame or if I am lucky for it; what I can say, despite it all, is this. You know well and good that reassuring yourself of that fact - that all of these feelings, all these reactions, all these tears you want to cry do nothing more than exude the love you have had, still have, always will have for the wonderful man of your father. Wishing for these things to have been, being even somehow comforted in his avoiding pain to come, hoping in everything that you are doing the right thing, that you are letting yourself do the right thing in being sad: surely there is no greater testament to your love for him.
And that is beautiful. That is you. And I will do my best to reassure you that it is just who you deserve to be.
I miss him, too. He loves you. I love you. Lots of us do.
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