1 month

It has been 1 month without my Dad.

My father met his Heavenly Father on February 5, 2009 at 8:00PM and every day since has been hard. Very hard. I miss him so much. Dad was so young, appeared so healthy. It is hard to believe in a matter of a few short weeks one can become so sick. I have so many questions. I replay so many of the events in my mind. What could have been done differently? However, I know my father is in a glorious place and I have started to find a peace in knowing that it was just time. God has a purpose for Dad...a new task...not an earthly one but a heavenly one...I have to focus on that.

Dad was an amazing man. A wonderful provider for his family and a strong Christian. There was nothing on this earth he loved more than "his girls" (my mother, sister, niece, & me). As a child I can remember he would stay home on Saturday mornings to watch The Smurfs with us and spend hours playing with Matchbox cars. I have so many precious memories of Dad: laughing so hard while telling a joke that he couldn't make it to the punch line, twirling and dancing (something I never thought he would do) with my at my wedding, bringing me "treats" (ice cream, dinner, anything!) to the hospital when I was on call, his mantra "If I can't fix it, it isn't broken" (he really could fix ANYTHING) - all of these memories and so many others dance through my head daily.

There wasn't anything my Dad did not do for me or our family. We used to always laugh when he had his "moments" - times when for no reason he would just start crying at dinner, during a movie or driving down the road. It was during these "moments" he would say he just felt so blessed with all that the Lord had given him - mostly meaning us girls. One cannot even watch my high school valedictorian speech...the camera was too shaky and all you can hear was my Dad...my Dad the videographer boo-hooing through the entire thing because he was so proud. He loved being proud of his girls and I loved to make him proud. He would swell with pride each time he saw me wearing my white coat. He loved that and I did too.

I miss him deeply. It hurts everyday.

I am still pregnant...will be 36 weeks this Sunday. I'm back to work and taking it day by day. Amazing, huh? As my due date approaches I find myself with a mix of happiness and extreme sadness. There is nothing in this world that my father wanted more than to hold my babies. He was so proud. My son was to be his first grandson...the first boy in our family. He had such big plans for the two of them. My heart aches that my two children will not physically know this amazing man. However, I plan to make sure they know as much as possible about their Poppy so that his amazing spirit can live on in them. And on that joyous day when Baby A and Baby B make their entrance to this world, I know my father will be there in spirit. He will hold those babies. Dad always was persistent in saying he would be there to hear their first cries as he was for my sisters daughter (the way the delivery room there was set up was perfect...family could see the baby without having to see the delivery) despite my persistent nagging that there was no way that could happen in our hospital with the set up we have...I didn't want him seeing that stuff!

Well, Dad...there is nothing to keep you out now. And I really hope you will be there to meet my babies & hear their first cries. Nothing would make me happier.

[Thank you to all who have noticed my absence and emailed to check on me. It is so touching to know that you care.]