As I mourn the loss of my father, I find that this journey takes many unexpected turns. It’s truly not a linear path.
Just when I attach to the idea that this is a difficult time, and I am not only permitted, but perhaps even encouraged to embrace the difficult moments and work through them, another surprise catches me off guard.
Today, while taking a trip along a similar path that I have taken countless family trips with my family, I found myself reminiscing about those very trips. I smiled quietly at the traditions begun and carefully kept. I became teary-eyed at not being able to call my father to report on the progress of the trip.
The journey was not just one of about 326 miles, it was also one of inhaling the moments treasured and not forgotten, loss felt deeply and love for a man that filled my world with joy.
I miss my father more than I know how to express, but I am grateful to have had such an amazing man to call daddy.