Dear Dad (#2)

Dear Dad,

Today is your birthday.  You would have been 63.  I'm not really sure how I feel about this day or how I am supposed to feel.  I miss you...a lot...that's for sure.

Thanksgiving was better than I thought it would be.  Except that you weren't there, which was huge.  But it was the first time that I've been home since you died.  And I had no idea what to expect.

It's weird because I often caught myself thinking that you were at work or sleeping in the next room.  But I had to keep reminding myself that, that wasn't the case.  That you're gone.  Permanently.

And that still hurts terribly.

It's been a little bit more than a year since Zaydie died.  So when I was home for Thanksgivng, we had the unveiling for his stone.  I didn't want to go because I didn't want to face the reality that you died, too.

We went, and it was fine.  Until I walked to where you're buried.  Around the mound of dirt, they've put a concrete barrier.  And it's still so new that it isn't flush to the ground.  It was creepy.  It's still too fresh and new.  Maybe it was too soon for me to go back there.

I don't know how I was supposed to feel being there.  Connected to you in some way?  The place I can go to "see" and visit you?  Because I didn't feel connected or comforted.  I felt empty.

I feel like it's a bad consolation prize for not having you physically around.

Things are moving forward on my project for you.  And I hope that after the New Year, I'll be able to share with you amd everyone else what has been going on.  But for now, mums the word.

Andrew and I started looking for apartments.  Yay!  And I'm sad that you won't be able to see our relationship grow and evolve.  But I'd like to think that somewhere, someway, you know.

It's hard to imagine life moving forward without you, but it has to.  We don't have a choice, or we die too.

As things start to get a little easier, we are hit with Thanksgiving or Chanukah or your birthday or some other even that you're not here for.  And it brings everything back again.

I'm not sure what else to say except that not a day goes by when I don't think about you.  And wish you were here.  And miss you.  And love you.

I love you,

Leslie