Changing.

It's different now. My dad being gone. It's harder is some ways, easier in others. I don't think about him every second of everyday anymore, although I still think about him a lot. Now I mostly think of how he is missing the things we are doing and how he would have enjoyed them, or the stories he would have had to go along with wherever we were. I miss being able to call him up and tell him about a bad call I saw in the ballgame or an amazing play. I know he has a great defense for the President in the recent scandals which I would love to hear even if just to tell him he was CRAZY! But it is different. The pain isn't there every second of everyday. I can finally take a deep breath again without my chest feeling like it is going to explode. What it is not is easier, it is just different.

Grief.

Grief: deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement That is what people keep calling the feelings I am experiencing right now, grief. Today, I am calling it anger. Today I have incredible anger for what I believe to be the injustice of having my father taken from me at only sixty years and two months old! The social security administration website tells me that I still have 19 years and 10 months left with him before he dies, 80 is the life expectancy of a male born in February of 1953. So the way I see it, the SSA lied to me! They have cheated me out of nearly 20 years with my father and I am angry about it! I'm angry at Phillip Morris for continuing to sell cigarettes long after knowing the harm it can cause people. How a company can knowingly sell a product that causes a disease like lung cancer is amazing. It makes me angry. I'm angry at the medical professionals who have not found a cure yet for lung cancer. I'm angry at the people who have fought and won the battle because it is just NOT fair! Yep, I know this feeling of anger is unhealthy, misguided and unproductive but that's how I feel today.

Letter To Me.

There is a Brad Paisley song entitled "Letter To Me", for those of you that are not familiar with the song you can listen here/. It is a song that when it plays on the radio I always stop and listen. When the song is over I always think about writing a "letter to me" but as of now I have not done it:) In the song Paisley writes to his seventeen year old self, I think I'll write to my teenage self.

Dear Emily, This is my letter to me. Life is the late 80's & early 90's moves too fast and everyone is in a rush to get somewhere bigger and better. The problem is that there is never big enough and you never get the best by rush through life. STOP, smell the roses. Be a kid. It's okay not to have a boyfriend in middle school, that will come. And when it does, be picky and I promise the nerd in math IS worth dating over the running back! Tell yourself and believe that you are as worthy as smart as capable as everyone else, but you have to belive it before other people will. Understand that people are going to treat and see you the way you treat and see yourself! Your heart is going to get broken when your first love ends and no matter what anyone tells you, You Did Love, you aren't too young! School. School is important. Learn how to write NOW because it is going to be the death of you later! You do need to give it your all. Right now school is your job. This is where you set the tone for your work ethic and drive that will carry you throughout your life. Don't be LAZY. Take the opportunities you are given, even if you're scared, you may never get the chance again. Tomorrow is never guaranteed, so Live knowing that today could be your last but hoping there will be a tomorrow. Love, Emily

That is my letter. I could add more and may in a private letter, one that my children will never see :) I wonder if I would have lived differently receiving this letter. I have no regrets in my life, but I do have a few "what if's". And when I take the time to remember them, my life seems fuller, I feel happier and more content. The small things do matter because they are building blocks to the big and your foundation needs to be strong so the blocks don't fall, but sometimes you can just lay the blocks down and move on without forcing them into place.

2 Weeks or 14 Days?

Perspective. There was a period of time in my life, between being a little kid and having little kids, that 2 weeks didn't seem too long. What I've found out over the past 2 Weeks or 14 Days is that when your father dies, 2 weeks or 14 days again feels like forever but at the same time your life seems as if it is constantly changing. Maybe the feeling is caused by not sleeping or maybe it is just because you're constantly moving & searching for a new normal. It has been 2 weeks or 14 days. I wonder constantly if I'm mourning correctly. Should I be further along in the process? Should I not cry so much anymore? Should I delete his number from my phone? I do not know the correct etiquette on these things but I know there must be some and I am sure my dad would know it(and could reference Emily Post on it :) But without him I do not know. Two weeks or 14 days. My father was catholic; I'm not. I think my lack of faith concerned him. I'm not sure he cared that I didn't believe what he believed, I think it concerned him that I had nothing to turn to. I think my dad saw his faith as a comfort, as an answer to those few things science did not seem to explain for him. Whatever the his reasons, he was a believer :) This afternoon I was driving in my car to get a haircut and the next thing I knew I was pulling into the parking lot of a local Catholic Church. I sat there for a moment but then decided to go in. It was quiet and peaceful. For sometime I sat there and just kept hoping, wishing for a "sign" but one was not forthcoming. I then started reading the Bible and this was the first (and last) verse I read: But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. -Wisdom 3:1-6 I am not sure if it was the sign I was looking for or a sign at all, but they were the right words at the right time. I read the verse over several times, I am not sure exactly how many but a lot and I cried harder and harder each time. Then my tears stopped and I walked out of the church, my head-up and feeling lighter. 2 weeks or 14 days. That is how long it has been since you left. It is not getting easier, just different.