When I Miss Him Most

Yes, he really caught that ball during batting practice at Wrigley Field

Grief is...interesting.

I haven't quite figured it out yet.

Three months later and I still don't know how I should feel.

Today, well the past few I guess, I have been feeling a little more sad.

Gosh I miss him.  A lot of times it feels like the missing I have been doing the past three years.

Since I normally wouldn't see him for up to 6 months at a time it kind of just feels like that.

But then I remember that he won't be there when I go back.

That I won't get to laugh with him or listen to him sing songs to Stella or open presents with him on Christmas morning.

And remembering those things hurts.  A lot.

I have noticed I miss him most at certain times during the day or week.  I don't know why.  I am sure they are just the moments that I allow myself to "go there", because I am alone or because I just can't ignore it for one more second.

I think I try to ignore it. 

Thoughts will come into my head about him being gone, about those last few days, or about what he is doing now and for some reason I find myself quickly pushing them out of my mind as soon as they enter.

It is like if I don't think about it then it isn't really true.

But then I feel almost guilty.  I should think about him more.  I should let myself miss him more.  I don't cry enough.  I am not allowing myself special moments to feel him near.

Like I said, grief is interesting.  And it's not really a good interesting in case you were wondering.

I miss him most on Sundays.

Something about that day (maybe it's the {hopefully} added measure of the spirit, or the things we talk about in church like eternal families and such, or the fact that Sunday has always been a day for families), something about all of those things wrapped up into one day makes me long to talk to him.

I miss him when I am listening to music.

My dad loved to sing.  He was actually quite good, too.

He loved Journey, The Eagles, musicals, Josh Groban, Elton John, and many more.

Some of my most vivid memories with him involve singing in the car.

He had a cassette tape of The Bodyguard soundtrack when I was younger and I can remember sitting in the parking lot of Winco singing to that tape with him.

In my 1st grade school program we sang "I Just Called to Say I Love You" and I was so excited because me and my dad always sang that together when it would come on the radio.

One of my favorite songs is "Open Arms" and I am pretty sure it is because my dad loved it so much.

Now there are songs that have extra meaning, like the ones we used for the memorial video montage or "God on High", from Les Mis that was playing as his casket was taken out of the chapel at the end of his funeral.

Even though those songs invoke so many emotions I am glad I have a few more songs that will always make me think of my dad.

I miss him a lot when I am cleaning.

I think this has to do with being alone with my thoughts in a quiet house.

Sometimes when I am scrubbing the floor is the best time to let the tears out.

I miss him when I am reading stories to Stella or singing her a song before nap time.

My thoughts pretty much always drift to my dad at those moments.

The other day I pulled out a book to read Stella called Guess How Much I Love You, it was given to me by my parents in 1998 and inside was little note from them reminding me how much I was loved.
As soon as I saw the inscription my emotions got the better of me.  I couldn't get through the first page with out getting choked up and I still can't.  It does make me happy that I can share that special book with Stella, though.

My dad loved singing to Stella.  His song of choice has always been "Skidamarink", but I like to think of it as he and Stella's special song.
When Stella was born my dad wasn't able to fly out to meet her right away.  Of course we Skyped the day she was born and talked on the phone lots, but to be honest my heart was breaking just a little knowing he wasn't there to hold my sweet little girl.
After a few days he couldn't take it any longer, he had to sing Skidamarink to her.  So we put the phone on speaker and listened through tears as he sang that special song like no one else could.
Now it is a hard song for me to sing to her, but I try every once in a while, especially on those evenings she just can't seem to settle down.

***

Last night I was reading in 2 Nephi about just before Lehi died.  He knew his time was drawing to an end and he took those last moments to call his family together and give them words of encouragement, advice, and blessings.  He urged them to be faithful and obedient, to cling to their families, to love God.
It reminded me so much of the last days we spent with Dad.
He truly brought our family together.  When I arrived in Pocatello I was greeted not only by my mom and siblings, but by grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  We were all there to say goodbye and make sure he knew we loved him, but he made sure we knew he loved us and that he wasn't afraid.
His last words to his children were much like Lehi's.  He urged us to be faithful and loving and to press forward with faith.  He blessed us with courage and comfort and peace.

I am so grateful I have those blessings to recall.  That during the moments when I miss him most I can think about how many times he told me he loved me and always would.  That I can know that I will eventually feel the peace and comfort and courage he promised would come.