Monday, November 9, 2009


8 months.

Dear Dad,
I wish you could see my kids. I wish you could see how much they love each other already.

I wish you could have been at the birthday party yesterday. It was fun and loud and all the kids running around everywhere would have driven you crazy :)

I am almost done Christmas shopping, whenever I open a catalogue or go into a store I see something you would have liked. A huge flashlight with tons of gadgets on it or a canvas bag with a picture of a moose on it. I really wish you could have been here for the baby's first Christmas.

You are missing D's birthday soon. She will be 9. I remember the day she was born. You called me and told me I had a little sister, just like I'd always wanted. When I got to the hospital you were sitting in the rocking chair holding her close and had the hugest smile on your face. You and mom were so happy!
She is a great little girl.

You are missing so much. We are missing you so much.

I read a book about Heaven. It helped a bit. You are happy there. You probably don't miss us like we miss you. You know we will be there in the blink of an eye. But right now, here, we'd rather have you with us.

I'll try to remember that you are happy. I'll try not to be selfish.

Wish you were here.

1 comment:

  1. I have a stocking stuffer I bought for my dad while he was in Seattle. I don't know what to do with it now. Which seems like such a small thing, but every time I look at it I hurt.

    I know what you mean about trying not to be selfish, but I suck at it so far. I kinda want Dad to leave all the wonders of heaven so I can give him my stocking stuffer.