I'm sitting here in my underwear, blogging. Kids all at school (the school I work at and took a day off from). Me? I just read last Sunday's Post Secrets and am crying like a baby.
Miss my daddy.
This will be the twelfth Father's Day gone by.
Whatever his flaws and shortcomings were, I love him. I miss him so much. I am so sad that he is missing out on my children, that he is unable to influence the people they are growing up to be. He would have really loved my kids; they really are a special group of crazy silly smart.
I just recently had my wedding video converted from VHS to DVD. He sang at my reception. With my mom and brother. I watched the DVD last week and it was like they were still alive, just missing somewhere, but certainly, not dead. My father and brother. I don't know how to upload DVD files. But maybe by Sunday I can and give you some video of my daddy.
I should shower. Put on clothes. Savor this little window of time to myself.
Death isn't The End.
Father's Day is Sunday. If your's is still corporeal, could you give him the hugs I wish I could give mine?
1 Brilliant Bits of Inspiration:
Personally, I think both Father's Day and Mother's day suck rotten eggs. I never really thought about it before- but truly, rotten eggs.
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