Seven Years

I can't believe it's been seven years since my Dad passed away. If you knew him, you knew that he was one of the greatest people to have ever stepped foot on Earth. I hope that I can be half the man to my kids that he was to me. Before he died, I always wondered how I would live without him. Over the past seven years, I have come to realize that I don't have to. He is in everything I do. I am the person that I am because of him and his death does not take that away. I see him in the mirror and hear him in my voice every day. I thought that after seven years, the presence would fade and it would be harder to remember the little things. I'm glad to say I was wrong. He is still so "here" and so tangible, I could practically feel his hugs right now. I find the times I miss him the most are when I'm experiencing things that didn't exist before his death that I am so passionate about now, things I want to share with him. The biggest thing is my son Cade. He was born a month after Dad died. It blows my mind that they never knew each other. They are both such monumentally important parts of my life, how could they not know each other? I wish I could have taken my Dad fly fishing. I don't know if he would have enjoyed it as much as I do, but he definitely would have appreciated my passion for it with genuine interest. It's odd, you would think I would miss him when I do the things we used to do together, like going to the stock car races or boat fishing. That's when I feel the closest to him though. The things that we shared together were his gifts that he sent along with me, to savor the rest of my life. I miss you Dad. xoxox