It's been 13 days since I last held his hand. It's been 13 days since I last saw his beautiful face with life. It's been 13 days since I saw that smile that lit up a room. It's been 13 days of torture.
My life has been turned upside down. I miss him so much. I still look for him and I imagine him with me everywhere I go. I'm assuming these are coping mechanisms.
I always knew he was sick and as much as the doctors tried to 'prepare' us for this, you never get prepared for death. It's the loneliest, most awful feeling in the world. I have always been a daddy's girl so a part of me went on with him when he passed.
My sisters and brothers all have children, significant others. I chose to take care of daddy and subconciously I put my life on hold. I lived and breathed with my daddy. So when my family tells me I have to get it together, I can't! I am a daddy's girl who was hooked at his hip.
My mother refuses to throw away the flowers. The smell breaks my heart even more each time I smell that awful scent. I've never liked the smell of flowers anyway.
I am sitting across from daddy's chaise. I imagine him sitting there and drinking his coffee. I imagine him smiling at me without being in pain.
I really had a lot of great times with him. I miss his singing. I miss his wink*. Life has been horrible lately. I have put all of my faith in God who will get me thru this.
Please keep us in your prayers. This has been the worst experience of my life. But God only gives me as much as I can handle.
