Grief therapy (AKA-vent post)

This guy just came to my door to bring the church keys by to clean it this week. He reminded me of my dad somehow. He probably thought I was so weird because of the way I was looking at him or something, but as soon as I shut the door I started to cry. I wish I could stop, but I just miss him so so much. I wish I could tell you. I miss his chuckle, his sweet nature, the way he was always doing something for somebody else. How seriously he took his callings and his priesthood authority. He didn't want people to feel bad for him or pity him. He was always on top of his game, always doing something. Never lazy. He was not a perfect man, but his heart was always in the right place.

Most of you probably have no idea what this is like, but one of the hardest things I had to do in my short life so far is watch my dad get old. He stumbled when he walked, every step was a chore. I wanted to help him, but he didn't like to make a big deal out of it. I proudly held his hand in public. That helped him more than anything could. I watched him go from go get'em super dad to 80+ yr old man with a go get'em attitude in the space of about 12 years (give or take). He didn't grumble about this. He did quite the opposite. He thanked the Lord everyday for his blessings and he shared his testimony with me and told me he loved me every single day. He was a true man of faith. I wish so badly everyone on this planet could have had the chance to know him. I know a lot of people tend to glorify people after they are gone, but this is not the case here. He was honest and truly 100% genuine and loved everyone else in a way I hope I can achieve at some point.

The hurt never fully leaves. It comes and goes and I am starting to realize that the loss and the void I feel will continue until I see him again. How grateful I am to know that that will happen! I don't think I could bear it if I didn't. I just wish so much that my kids could have had him in their lives. I wish BJ had known him better. I feel envious sometimes knowing he can call his dad for fatherly advice. I could get it from him, too, but it's just not the same. Really. My dad knew me inside and out. He knew what kind of person I am, he knew my spirit he knew my testimony. He never said hasty things, he always thought out his answers and responses. He never ever judged me. He never wanted to hurt me. Everything he said or did was because he loved me. A true example of what I think our relationship to Heavenly Father must be like. My Father in-law is much the same. I see it with his kids. He reaches out to me, too. How did I get so lucky to have such good in-laws?

The second hardest thing I've had to do is watch my mom become a widow. It is so sweet to hear her talk about him. How much she loves him. The dreams she has about him. I've always been close to her, but this has brought us so much closer. Right after he died I went up once a month and ended up staying for about 10 days each time. She wisely told me that my place was with my husband. That we needed to be together. I was so afraid to leave her alone with her thoughts. I didn't want her to be hurting as much as I was and I knew that she was hurting even more. I think it wears on her every day. She is also just as giving and sweet and kind to everyone around her. She is genuine and true as well. Everything she does is with the sincerest of intentions. Who knew there were such wonderful people in this world as my parents? I love them both beyond words. She says she's okay, and I know she is, but I know she aches for him. I know because I do, too.

In some ways things as far as moving on have gotten better, but I still have to remind myself that he's gone. Really and truly gone.

Okay (deep breath). Now that's out of the way, my eyes are swollen and I'm ready to get my mind off of it.