February 25, 2009. Ten years ago. A decade ago. I keep looking at the calendar in disbelief. I shouldn't be surprised or caught off guard. I know how calendars work, and time doesn't stop for anyone. But a decade just seems like such a long time.
A lot has happened in the last ten years. A lot of things that you've missed that I wish you hadn't. A lot of things you would have enjoyed, mixed with some you would have shaken your head at. I'll admit that the passage of time makes it easier to manage, but every year this day rolls around to remind me that you're still gone.
When you died I was on the verge of 15. I barely knew who I was, what I wanted, or where I was headed in life. You missed the crazy years. The screaming, crying, door slamming years. You missed the awkward conversations about the birds and the bees. You missed my first dates and major heartbreaks. You missed college move in day and graduation. You missed giving your blessing to the man of my dreams.
I stand here now, half a year from 25, and I while I look forward to all of the things that life has in store for me - part of me hesitates as I think about all of the things you've missed and will continue to miss as time passes. Walking me down the isle. Hugging your grandchildren and watching them grow. It's hard not to wonder how things might all be different if you never had to go.
But I try not to dwell. I try to remind myself that while every day passes with you gone - it's just another day that I should be living. Losing you enabled me to find strength in loss - to grow through things as they happen, rather than let them shut me down. So today doesn't just mark a decade of you being gone - it also marks a decade of growth and life that's been lived in your memory.
I love you & I miss you, Dad.
