I can't believe it has been six years since I lost my dad. He has been on my mind a lot lately. I have been missing his smile, his squinty eyes and the way they would light up when he smiled, the way he would call me his star, his voice, his belly, his cooking, his hugs, the way he would scuffle his feet when he danced in the kitchen, and most of all his contagious laugh.
The Gospel is the only thing that has gotten me through the tough times. Knowing that I will see my dad again, makes everything better. I look forward to the day I can wrap my arms around him and give him a kiss on the cheek. For now, I am grateful for the tender mercies I have received along the way. I know he is still with me and watching over me daily. I find comfort in knowing he is in good hands and is in a better place.
My brother Tate filled my eyes with tears today, as I read his status:
"Missin' my old man lately. You learn to live with one of the biggest parts of your life gone. You try to pretend like it never happened all the time but then there are days when you realize things. He is not coming back. It's tough until you realize you talk to kids just like he did, his laugh bellows out of your mouth every once in a while, ha and you even sneeze like him. He is gone but his influence lives in me. He is in all aspects of my life. I'm grateful for the man I saw that my father was. I'm grateful through all his trials I only saw a hero."
I am so happy I got to be his little girl and he got to be my dad. I wouldn't of had it any other way.