Today would've been my Dad's birthday. I would love to talk to him and make a few "you're so old" jokes. I would love to put the phone to Love Bug's ear so she could show off one of her new words. And I would really love to just say hi and tell him how much I love him.
Today I'm am okay and I've finally come to a good place. I miss him, I don't like that he's gone, but dwelling on the bad does me no good, and it certainly doesn't honor him the way he deserves. My Dad was not the common virus (likely just a cold) that attacked his heart- he was such a healthy man. And the day my Mom found his body, after his spirit had already gone, does no justice to the rest of the days he really lived. He was someone who told great stories, could make anyone laugh, and someone people loved to talk to. He was a kind and faithful husband to my Mom until the day he died and he was the best Dad to my brother and me. He was a wonderful friend, a fabulous person to work for, and a good neighbor. To focus on the day my Dad died, rather than the 19,011 other wonderful days of his life, is unfair to the kind of positive person he was.
Today I pray for the rest of my family. I wake up everyday and choose to be here, in this good place. Some family members are so far away from closure, and still haven't been able to let him go. I hope they can find their way because the memory of him is much better from here.