It will be 6 years this Sunday since I lost your guidance in my life. I don't "miss" you everyday as I once did. The void isn't filled and never will be. But it's transformed. Instead of crying myself to sleep every night and waking up forgetting that you're gone, I miss you most and feel that void at it's deepest when I need someone to talk to that understands our family. I wish you were here to talk to. You had a way of understanding even the stupidest of issues and knowing how to reach a place of sanity and reason-ability and sense ability even with the most stubborn, skewed points of view. I miss knowing that everything would be ok.
I wonder if you're proud of me. If my life and the person I have become makes you proud to call yourself my dad. Then again, I'm not sure why I wonder. I know as long as we treated others with respect and kindness, stuck up for what we knew was right and walked a path with the love of God in our hearts, that we made you proud.
You'd have been proud of Ryan tonight. He sang at school and was so lovely and so happy and smiled so brightly, I know your heart would have swelled as mine did.
I know when Emma shared her orange slices with Ryan at snack time today, you smiled.
I know when Logan did his little boogie dance to Mario music this afternoon, you roared with laughter at his uninhibited silliness.
I know when I told mom, her opinion has a time and place to be shared, you patted me on the back, slid an arm around my shoulder and squeezed it tight.
I know every time The Sexiest Man Alive puts my head straight, encourages me and supports me, you smile to know I've found someone to appreciate and be appreciated by.
I know we make you proud. I know we made you happy while you were here, and dad, you make me as happy in death as you ever did holding my hand through the scary times, squeezing my knee through the happy times and hugging me every day you had the chance.
You make me proud to be your daughter and I love you.
