Wednesday, July 21, 2010

sorry for myself

I am having one of "those" days today. Pretty sure it can all be attributed to pms (sorry if that's too much information but it's true).

This weather is driving me crazy. We've had way too much rain. At 8 am it was thundering and now it is sunny. Maybe the sun will last but who knows. We were supposed to go out this morning to a friend's house. But I decided not to risk walking over with the kids in case it started to rain again. Not having a car is so annoying some days. I would love to be able to pack the kids up and go to the zoo or something.

The rain is also making our lives miserable by gathering in our basement. Our sump pump is running all the time, but you can still smell the water from the cold storage and laundry rooms. I used to love the rain. Now I hate it. It is wrecking my summer. We can hardly get any work done outside due to the wet and the mosquitoes.

I am feeling extremely overwhelmed with trying to spend time with my kids, worrying about our house, do laundry, cook and keep the house clean after being totally spoiled for the two weeks we were gone. Plus I start work next month and even though it's very part-time I'm wondering how I will manage.

Our phone has been out since Saturday. Super fun.

In my Grief Share book it talks about how every day/week/month/whatever, you miss something new about the person you lost. There are more facets to a relationship with a person then you even realize. Today I am missing my Fix-it dad who knew how to fix everything and would tell me all the answers to what we should be doing with our house. I could just call him and he would come over and make it better. I don't have anyone like that anymore. I was so spoiled to have a dad like that, and I miss him so much.
I am bawling as I type this, and my son is telling me not to be sad. I hate this. Of course I miss him everyday but for some reason, it hurts a lot more today. It's been 16 months. I just want to talk to him. I want to see his face and hear his voice. I want to see him with my mom. I want him to play with my sister and my kids and my nieces and nephew. I want him to answer the phone when I call their house.

I miss my dad.


  1. Oh Dana. I'm so sorry. It's so hard, I wish there was a way to fix it now, the way your dad could fix things, because sometimes it really doesn't help much to know that it will all be fixed in heaven. It helps a little, sometimes a VERY little bit, but not a lot. And sometimes not enough.


  2. My dad passed away a year and a half ago. He gave me his tool box and his work gloves before he died. I get both comfort and that takeaway of breath that comes from loss when I go looking for a tool to tackle a household task. It's such a concrete way of connecting with his spirit: and then, the job gets done.