...my dad died. It hit me on the way home from school last night that three years ago at that time we knew it would be within hours because the only response we got from him was his mouth opening a little when it was time for morphine. His hands were cold and turning blue.

Three years ago at this moment, we were all over at their house waiting for the hospice nurse to come to declare him. Then we waited for the funeral home guys to come to pick him up. I noticed that day for the first time how even my feet look just like my dad's. His toes were a bit longer, but the toe shapes were the same as were our high arches.

Odd, the things we notice in times like that. I always knew I got my facial features from him. I got my body shape from his genes. It makes sense that my feet are like his but until that moment I just didn't notice.

It doesn't hurt too much this year. There's still a hollow ache inside me, but it isn't searing pain as it was the first two anniversaries. I'm filling that wound in with the happy memories I had with him and with the things he wanted to see happen that are happening. He never met my nephew Mike's fiancee. He saw her on video and in photos, but didn't get a chance to meet her. He would have adored her as we all do. I'm sure he'll be at their wedding next September. My dad doted on his grandsons. He wouldn't miss a thing with them until Hodgkin's disease took him over.

Oh Daddy, how I miss you!

** cross-posted in my journal and [livejournal.com profile] imissmydad **

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sugarplumkitty

July 2015

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