2 years

Yes, I’m feeling sad for myself today... and probably for the next couple of days. Wanna judge?
2 years already and it still feels like yesterday.

As I was reading through some quotes about dads, I found one that I feel fits perfectly...

"It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was." -Anne Sexton

My dad struggled through life. Don’t we all though? I think the hardest part of it all is the fact that it was just starting to get really good for him. He had moved from Utah to AZ to be with us girls. He lived with Steph and Kevin for awhile before moving to Paulden to be with us. David’s dad had given him a great opportunity to work doing what he loved, excavating. He was an expert on the backhoe. Ross (David’s dad) had also given him keys to his own place, a trailer out on the property he would be working on. My dad was so excited. He called me while David and I were out of town. I wish I would have saved that message. He told me he was so excited to start over and that he wanted to take us out to dinner. He told me to tell David he loved him. He also said he loved me. The sound of his voice was different. He really was excited.

Later we found out that Ross was the last one to see him alive. My dad told Ross not to tell me that he was planning on surprising me by going to church. He also said he felt like this was his chance to start new. He was thankful to Ross for the opportunities he had given him.

I truly believe it was his chance. He made a change. I think we all knew that. I also think that’s why it is/was so hard. His life had only begun.

Although my dad worried a lot, I love what his voicemail said, "Don’t stress." What a sweet reminder.

Although I don’t have a lot of memories of him (or my childhood for that matter), I do remember some things. I remember him taking with me on drives. I remember getting to ride the backhoe with him and telling everyone that I wanted to be a construction worker like my dad. I remember building a snowman with him. I remember going to McDonalds with him to get dollar double cheeseburgers. I remember his moccasins. I remember the smell of coffee, vanilla and cigarettes.  I remember him laying on the bed in Stephs house and me laying in the crevice of his arm as he watched the game. His "girly drink", a vanilla cappacino. I remember him coming home from work, me so excited that I heard our song that day.  I remember when I found him, the old school music playing, the dart board up and the scriptures in his bag.

Just one more memory. This one comes from today. Lately, David and I have been leaving the radio on at night for background noise. Well, this morning  I got up to go pee. It was three a.m. I came back to the room and guess what was just starting on the radio? Red Red Wine. That’s our song.


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