🎶525,600 Minutes🎶

How do you measure a year after loss? It’s different for everyone, but here are some ways I’ve measured the year since cancer stole my Dad from me.

• The amount of times I’ve said, “It’s not fair.

• The amount of times I’ve jokingly blamed something on him.

• The amount of times I’ve thought, he’s dead he doesn’t care how I handle a situation.

• The amount of times I’ve desperately wished he was here for me to argue with about history.

• The times I’ve wanted to discuss current events.

• The times I’ve said, “I miss my Daddy”, with tears streaming down my face.

• The many times I’ve noticed how cancer and the death of a parent are used as plot devices.

• The many times I’ve cried.

• The many times I’ve tried not to cry.

• The many times I’ve avoided the toy section so I don’t see Hot Wheels.

• The times I’ve laughed at a memory.

• The times I’ve smiled when my kids remember him.

• The many times I’ve dreamed about him and had to wake up to the reality that he’s gone.

• The amount of times I wished we just had one more minute, day, week, month, year.

These are just some of the ways I’ve measured the last year after my Dad died. It’s still hard to believe he’s gone. Nothing can prepare you for such a loss, even three years of knowing it’s coming. I watched cancer slowly take my Dad from me and it’s something I’ll never fully heal from.

I miss him. I hate that he’s gone. I’m sad. I’m thankful that I had my Dad for 41 years, and simultaneously devastated that I lost him so soon. Grief is so complex. So many feelings all at once that are fighting for control.

The truth is, I really miss my Daddy.