An empty hole...

Having daddy gone from our daily lives has left this huge, gaping hole in the pit of me. Not just in my heart. When I think of him I become sick in the center of my being. A longing just to hear his voice or see his face overcomes me. A huge, painful lump is in my throat, making it hard to swallow. Odd isn't it, how grief - an emotion - can change the state of our physical body.

Does every child feel this huge loss at the death of their parent? I think that I must be alone in this kind of grief, for surely no other father and daughter loved each other more. Then I think of my sister, and my heart breaks a little more. Because I know that though we don't talk about it, she must feel the same way I do. And I wish so very much that she wouldn't have to go through this torment.

Strangely enough, no one talks to me about my daddy. My friends never mention him, though since I have moved here, most of my friends didn't know him. My own siblings and I don't even discuss him. Not really. Maybe a stray thought here and there...but then one of us inevitably changes the course of conversation.

The person who talks about him the most with me is my mom. And now it seems like I can't talk to her either...she just can't. I completely understand. Some days, I just can't talk either.

I read a book recently, by Kristin Hannah called Summer House. It was about the love between a mother and daughter. But this section made me think of both my mom and my dad. It is so very true in how I feel about them and about how they have shaped my life and how they have made me who I am today.

"...we are connected with one another. My mother is in the bones of my spine, keeping me straight and true. She is in my blood, making sure it runs rich and strong. She is in the beating of my heart. I cannot imagine a life without her.

I know how precious time is...when I close my eyes, I see him as he once was, laughing...looking forward to the rest of his life. I hear his voice in the wind, I feel his touch in the rain, and I remember...Life is short...I find the missing of him unbearable. I will reach for the phone and call my mother, and her voice will bring me back to him."

I don't miss Daddy less with time, but more. Today marked 11 months. And I am still counting every moment without him.