I try to hold it together. I try to keep a smile on my face and hold my head up high; I want to take on the world and embrace life because I know that’s what you would want for me, even though every moment hurts. I meet new people and it feels wrong that they’ll never know you. I want to tell them your story because maybe that will help them understand me a little bit more. Or maybe not. At first, every day is a hard day. Every moment hurts. Breathing hurts. Living hurts. But slowly, I can breathe again. Until I can’t. Every day is a good day, until it isn’t. Every memory feels joyful, until I remember we won’t make any more. Every moment hurts. It’s only been 3 years and yet it feels like a lifetime. But it also feels like just yesterday. I look at my children and it feels wrong that you only met one. It hurts me that they won’t know you. Yet I look at their faces and see you. I see you everywhere. In every laugh, every rainbow, every bird, every memory, every moment. And every moment hurts. Yet it doesn’t.
Pain turns to hope. Grief turns to joy. And I can think of you now without breaking down. I can think of you now and smile. I can cry tears and still feel happiness. I can feel sadness and still be grateful. I can be broken and also blessed. And they aren’t mutually exclusive anymore. I can feel both. I will always feel both. I will always miss you. But I will try. And I will smile. And I will hold my head high. And I will live for you and make you proud; I’ll tell your story and your grandchildren will know you, through me. And I will love you forever.
And I will see you again.
“You’ve just got to keep smiling, baby girl. Grief weighs down the wings of the angels.”
— Abdiel A. Richardson
I will keep trying, Daddy. For you. Happy 50th Birthday.
Love always,
Zannie
