I'll never forget

I don't know what else to say other than, I miss you. Every day. Every minute. Every second. I just miss you.

I want to treat you to dinner. Maybe a nice big bowl of ramen. Your favorite. Or maybe just cut up some fruit for you and snack, like you always would for me. Or even just to make you a cup of coffee like I would when we lived together.

Everytime I eat an ice cream cone I think about how you would share an ice cream cone with B every night after dinner. She sure is a sucker for ice cream now.

I want to talk to you. I want to hear your voice. I want to tell you about school and what I've been up to. About M's job and all the work he has been doing. To hear how proud you would be of him. I want to tell you about B. To hear you laugh at all the crazy things she does and says. It's been about 12 wks since that day we came to visit you in the hospital and she played with you. You wouldn't believe how her speech and personality has thrived and blossomed.

Everything reminds me of you.

I planted a garden this year. M says I went a little overboard but I don't care. It all reminds me of you. And how we were so happy to plant that cucumber and tomato plant last year. I can't believe it was only a year ago. We were out back and you were shoveling and doing manual labor. I think back and can't believe the pulmonary fibrosis took you away so quickly.

I bought a strawberry topsy turvy today. I remember when I bought it last year and you were so in awe of it. We sat in the yard at your house and filled it up. And you helped remind me to water and take care of it. The strawberries were so good. You loved them.

We went to eat at one of your favorite breakfast joints last weekend. I saw your friend the owner and wondered if he knew you passed away. If he would remember you. I looked longingly into the corner where we last enjoyed breakfast for Bo's birthday. And it was like I could see you there, sipping your coffee. I thought about how a couple days before you passed away you said you wrote that you craved eggs and hashbrowns. You were so happy that I could figure out what you were saying since you could no longer talk.

Everytime eat a fruit, I think of you. Everytime I peel an orange or banana. Everytime I cut up grapefruit or exotic fruit. You loved your fruits. And I think of all the times you would cut up fruit for me, put it in a baggy with a smiley face on it and leave it for me to take to school or work. You were always thinking of me.

I think of you everytime I cook meals I know you would enjoy or meals I would cook for you that you enjoy. You were always so happy when I cooked for you.

I remember the lazy days of summer last year. When you would walk my 1.5 year old down to the corner liquor store, buy her a pushup and sit on the curb eating it. She loved that time with you.

I cry everytime she asks me to see you. Or everytime she wakes up from a night's sleep or a nap and tells me that she dreamt of you. She asked about you every day. Asking to see her Poppy and her Gammy. I never know what to say other than that you love her and that we can't see you right now. But oh, how I wish you could see her.

Going to your house is painful but makes me feel close to you. We haven't cleaned your stuff out and I don't know if we ever will. Sometimes I walk the house just tracing my fingers along all your belongings. Sometimes I open your bottle of cologne just to smell you again. Or hug your shirts just to feel close to you. Your pillow still smells like you and everytime I'm in yours and Gramma's room, I remember great memories of growing up and spending the night.

I'm suffering from insomnia. I always was a nightowl but now everything is centered around 1:45A, the time you passed away. Every early Wednesday morning, I wake up or look at the clock at the exact time you passed away. Gramma is the same way. It's eerie but strangely comforting.

I think about so many times last year when you were trying to tell us you weren't ok. You were suffering. You were trying to get better. I wish your doctor hadn't been so blase about your condition and care, writing you off as an elderly man without much time to spend on you. I wish were had known. But you were a man of honor. And I respect that as well. No one could foresee this coming, especially with how strong it came on.

There are so many signs you are near. Watching over us. Making sure we are ok. Giving us your opinion. It amazes me daily and I wish even though it's comforting, I still selfishly wish you were here.

I remember how much of a family man you were. Always focusing on the 11 of us. Worrying about us. Making sure we were ok. Taking care of us. We were your life. And every day I try to make you proud. We're taking care of Gramma the best we can. She's trying to be strong but she misses you. Oh, does she miss you. Your 49th anniversary is coming up. We joke that you wouldn't have remembered it anyway, but it's still hard. Just like your birthday was. Every day is different for her but she's ok. BMW chose not to move out and lives with her now. And Mom is being so strong and independent and boy, would you be proud of her. She's a rock and without her, I'm not sure how the rest of us would survive all this. The two of them are a daily key to keeping Gramma going. And Uncle has been around a lot too lately which helps. It's nice to all be together, laughing and spending time. We all miss you so much.

Gramma told me the other night that a beautiful red daisy popped up in her yard. It's beautiful and your favorite color and she told me how you used to plant daisies for her in the yard of your first house. It's a beautiful way to show her you are still here. She thrives on that and it's what keeps her going. So don't stop. We all need little reminders that you are still with us.

B told me that you come play with her sometimes. I hope you see her smile and laugh. And see how happy she is. Because she is. And she makes us all so happy too. I'll never forget the day Gramma told you I was pregnant. You called and told me "I know this was unplanned and you are probably scared, but Congratulations. You are going to be a great mommy." And you told M the same thing.

We had an incredible bond and every day memories just flood back to me. I hope I never forget them because I am who I am because of you. I love you and miss you so much Poppy. 10.5 wks feels like yesterday but at the same time like it was months ago. I wish time would stand still and let me mourn. But it doesn't. And life goes on and people forget.

But I'll never forget Poppy. I'll never forget.