I didn't know it would be today

I miss my dad tonight. A few minutes ago, I sat outside on the front steps and spoke to him. I'd give the world if I had it, to hear him speak back. You never really quite know what to say to a loved one when they are dying. You focus so much energy on being there, in their presence, making sure they are okay. Your brain goes into this hole that shows no light. There is no way out because you know what the future for this loved one holds.

When this happens, you lose your ability to think clearly and concisely. You forget the important stuff. The questions you wanted to ask. The advice you will need for later. The memories spoken just once more.

Eventually, you accept it. You do this because you have to, there is no choice in it. Accepting it isn't the same as being okay with it though. It doesn't mean you understand. You have moments throughout your life that you are automatically going to go to that place your loved one once was. The place your routine is used to. Days, weeks, years. It doesn't matter how much time has passed. Your mind will always go to them.

Its in these instances that your heart breaks over and over again. Sometimes to the point of feeling huge weights on your chest, as if you may choke.

Reality...what a terrible thing.

When your little, you always look to your dad. The most important man in your life. You want to make him proud. You want to make him happy. You want him to know he has raised you the right way. You want to show him that you've created greatness from the life he gave to you.

Just because my dad is dead doesn't mean its okay for me to forget this. I still want him to be proud of me. I want to show him I was worth it. That he made a difference.

Then I have days like today.

Today, someone that I love was very mean to me. They called me horrible names. They physically harmed me. They made me feel like I was nothing. They degraded me so low that for a while tonight I didn't think I'd be able to dig out.

While this was happening, I was embarrassed. I embarrassed myself. I allowed the actions of another to control me. I allowed them to pull me down to their level. I allowed this monster to come into my life. I allowed myself to love this person.

Reflecting now, only hours later...I get to thinking...

What would dad think of all of this?

The answer to that question is the answer I needed to remember in order to know where to go from here.

So...here I am, two years, four months, and five days after my dad's death...and he is still there for me. He is still lending me his guidance.

Who would have thought that possible?