Dear Papa

I read somewhere that grief is love with no place to go; that when we lose someone we loved we must learn not to live without them, but to live with the love they left behind.

Dear Papa,

It’s been 8 years, almost to the day, since we said goodbye. It feels like it was just yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once; like I’ve been living in the twilight zone or lost in the Bermuda Triangle.

You’ve missed so much since you’ve been gone; little things, big things. I got my driver’s license and cried on the way home when I realized I couldn’t tell you. I got married and I got divorced. I moved away from home and our old house was sold to someone new. There have been so many times that I’ve wished you were still here, wished I could talk to you, but you’re gone and all I have now are my memories…

I remember watching shows about plane crashes with you and talking about conspiracy theories and weird phenomenons. I remember how you’d play guitar for me at bedtime instead of reading me stories when I was little - you sang a song about a cherry that had no stone, whatever that meant. I remember going for long drives down backroads on nice days and searching the fields for deer at dusk. I remember the way you would hide when there was an unexpected knock at the door - a social butterfly, you were not. I remember that you liked orange marmalade on your english muffin for breakfast and how you always asked Nannie what was for “duff” after dinner (dessert). I remember how you always smelled like asphalt when you came home from work. I remember that game we used to play, the one where you’d say you loved me and I wouldn’t say it back… I remember holding your hand in the hospital and telling you I loved you, you were too weak to say it back, but I knew you did. I hope you knew I did too.

Some days, some moments, are harder than others. This July 30th was the first year since we lost you that I haven’t felt the weight of your loss; it felt different, lighter. It’s not that I’ve forgotten, I don’t think I ever could, but this year, the day came and went without the usual heaviness. M says that it’s a good thing, that I’ve finally found peace without your presence, but I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not being sad enough.

I know that even after these 8 long years that have gone by so fast, you’re still here with me. I talk about you a lot and think of you even more. I try to keep your spirit alive by trying to be the things I loved most about you - patient, understanding, generous, loving, kind. I do my best, I think you’d be proud of the woman I’ve become.

I wish that I could tell you I love you one last time, to make sure you really know. You loved me well. You were the best Papa I ever could have hoped for, more than I deserved, and losing you has left me forever homesick.

Missing you,

Dolly