father's day - father = sunday

I didn't know what to do. I thought I had prepared myself for this day... but I guess I didn't prepare enough or I over-prepared. That probably didn't make sense, but in truth, none of this made sense to me.

I was lost, stuck in a haze... it was Father's Day and I had always had a father to celebrate. Until now. So what am I suppose to do?

We got home from our Austin weekend trip and I felt sad. Sad because I felt that I had not remembered my dad well on this day, but it hurt too much to remember him at all. I didn't want to hurt his feelings (could I even do that?).

So I remembered him. I remembered the time my sister and I made little guitars out of Kleenex boxes and rubber bands and sang to him. I remembered his unmistakable laugh. The way he used to say "oh... Coooooool!" after he opened a gift we had given him. I remembered his big hugs. I remembered when we use to "help" him cut the grass. I remembered him teaching us how to play baseball in the field next to our house. I remembered how he went away when he was in the Army and then he came back and we barely recognized him. I missed him so much then as a 7 year old kid and I miss him so much more now as a 28 year old woman. He was a great dad.

For some reason though, I think he knows all this. And that makes me feel good.