I am amazed by some of the things that remind me of you. What's more amazing are the things that send me into a sudden panic of overwhelming emotion as I remember I won't ever hear your voice again. I won't ever be sitting in a room with you watching tv and you'll randomly reach out your hand, index finger pointed and wait for me to touch my finger to yours.
Emma made me a bracelet today. It has her name on it. She gave it to me because the necklace she made me for Mother's Day this year gets caught up on things at work and she wanted me to have something special that reminds me of her when I can't be with her. I have stickers the boys gave me that I keep on my serving book. She is so beautiful, Dad. And wonderfully thoughtful and considerate. She is growing up so fast and the days where I sat for weeks rocking her in that awful green recliner at CHW long gone. She is unbelievably smart. And so observant. And when she laughs my whole heart swells with pride at this intelligent, charming, funny, beautiful little girl I've made. She is amazing, Dad, and I know you'd be so proud of the little woman she is becoming.
I miss you sometimes when I look at her. You and I went through so much, through her.
I wish you knew Ryan and Logan more. They were so little when you died. Ryan has a smile that just floors me. He LOVES car and trucks and he has one of the best imaginations ever. He is becoming very acclimated to the water. I wish you could see the way he jumps into the pool now; fearless. He will do just about anything to make someone laugh-regardless of the possible consequences for inappropriate behavior. You'd love it. Remember when you taught him to put things in his pockets, but didn't tell me you'd done so and for about a month I couldn't figure out why I was constantly finding rocks and woodchips and paper clips and melted crayons in my dryer? He still does that, but now its HotWheels cars, golf balls, spy watches and coins. I know enough now to always check his pockets.
Logan. Sweet, Logan. He is a riot. You never knew anything about him, really. He was just a baby. He is...amazing, just as Emma and Ryan are. He is seriously convinced that he is Spiderman and that I am a super hero, too. His eyes are little pools of love that I drown in. He approaches life head on. He says, 'hello' to strangers, runs with the big kids on the playground and says THE darnedest things. He will descend a staircase holding my hand and when he gets to the 3 to last step he will stop and say, "A one, a two, a 3, 4, 5, 6!" and jump to the landing below. I see God's love through that little boy every day.
I wish you were here to know them. To see them grow. They are my legacy, all I have. I am so proud of them. They are all so unbelievably smart. They're funny. They're sweet, loving and kind.
I miss you. I feel so alone without you. You and I shared so many things, personality wise, that I don't share with anyone else. Some of my favorite things about myself I shared with you. Its difficult to appreciate them now that you're not here. I hope that heaven is a place where you can see how wonderful your grandkids are; see how happy they make me.
Missing you is the hardest thing in my life. Out of all the dad's in the world, I'm so glad God gave me you.
Happy Father's Day.
Love,
KB
I know that your dad sees them, and that he knows what amazing little people they are. I still remember shortly after he died, Emma swinging on the swings at the park and telling me that he told her she would always know he was with her when the wind was blowing on her face. Then that huge gust of wind came up! I know he is all around you and loving on you all.
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