It’s Father’s Day

The computer alert popped up. I held my breath and closed my eyes.

Father's day is tough.

I don't care how many years he's been gone, the pain is still crushing. I miss his laugh, his dork-i-ness, his cool swag walk when he's all dressed up, his Italian/Southern accent depending on who he is talking with, the look in his eye when he sees his little girls and grandkids, the "who's yo daddy" phone calls and the tears from laughing so hard it hurts. I miss watching him dance with his hands in his pockets.

Tomorrow, I'll celebrate the memories of my father, Walt Terry and I'm also going to celebrate the power of grace and forgiveness because for me,  in the end, here on earth, that is what is ultimately most impactful. It's a beautiful thing to have and it doesn't supersede the memories, it sorta navigates them into a joyous place.

He left me way too soon and I didn't get to figure it all out before he went to Heaven. Add acceptance to the list of celebrations.

When I envision him in Heaven, I see him on a bench, waiting for us, his daughters and our children … his grandchildren whom he loved dearly. He was taken even sooner from them.

I know he has to miss us as much as we miss him. I know he has probably learned powerful Lessons and has important stuff to share with us. And then we will laugh until our stomachs hurt, I'm sure of that.

Today, this weekend, Father's Day and every day since last Father's Day, I miss him.

Father's Day is tough and I am praying for all those who have had their breath taken away by this reminder.