Over the weekend, I found myself starting many sentences with the same phrase: "My dad ..." Unintentionally, I was inserting something about dad in almost every conversation. I don't remember talking about him quite as much before March. I realized it was because even though he's not with us anymore, I don't want anyone to forget him. I don't want to forget him. I know I never will - but talking about him somehow makes him feel closer, somehow ensures that we will never forget such an amazing man.
I thank God I had such a wonderful Daddy. And even though he went to heaven much too soon, I am blessed to have had him in my life for the time I did. I need to continue reminding myself that ... it's what helps get me through some rough days.
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