Dad: Eight Days

Dear Dad,

It's been eight days since you left us & I still can't wrap my brain around the fact that you are gone.

It seems like something is terribly a miss, but I just can't think of what is out of place. Then like a nightmare, my stomach drops & I have to remind myself that you have passed away.

I keep waiting for my phone to ring & I so desperately want to hear your voice telling me something you want from the store or how you are doing playing The West. You so loved that game & were always so much more into it than I ever was, even though I am the one who got you into it in the first place.

I still have not cried, which is super strange for me. I know you always told me not to cry for you when die, but I know this isn't what you meant. Okay, so there have been a tear or two, but nothing to the extent that I so desperately need.

I just pray that when it finally happens that God makes sure I have the perfect people around me. He's done a great job so far making sure that I have just the right love & support, so I can't see why things would be different then.

The support & love others have shown me have been so amazing. In fact, it has been difficult to put into words, so for now, I won't try.

I am worried about everything, wondering if I'm doing things right or how you would have wanted them. I am still mad that you didn't put anything in writing like I begged you to. Since you didn't, I hope I am doing a decent job or partly anyway.

I am still so very numb & I am not looking forward to anything that is to follow...

Can this be for real?