2 months

Dear Dad,

Today marks 2 months since you died. I'm sad to know that I'll never hear your voice again, or see you being silly with your grandchildren, or watch you hug Mom, or listen to you coax me to use less plastic/eat more coconut oil/throw away my microwave... I miss you. I wish that you didn't have to die in the hospital, that you could have come home one last time. Instead, you were whisked away from the nursing home to the hospital. I hated that place for you. I hated that you were there, and I'm so sorry I didn't push harder to have you transferred to a nicer place. I'm sorry if being in that place made you not want to live that way any more. I love you so much, and I hope you know that we would have helped Mom take care of you...but I know that you were too proud and that you didn't like relying on others (even if it was just your daughters and your wife) to help you.

I know you are with our Lord and Jesus Christ right now, happy and pain-free. I believe you are watching over me, Mom, Chark, and all your grandchildren every day. I believe you probably know more about your newest grandson than I do. You are probably rejoicing over being reunited with your parents, and your sisters. I know that my sadness and grief will fade, and the memories I have of your last weeks and days will be washed out by all of my other fonder memories of you. I know that even though you aren't physically here with us, you will still share our experiences...maybe even more so.

For now, though, I just wish you were still here.

Love always,

Kath