A month ago today, Dad died.
Somehow that feels both recent and far away, and I’m trying not to let the passing days make him feel further from me.
This photo was taken in 2022, just south of Grayling, Michigan. I was driving him to Virginia so he could live with us. The road stretched out ahead of us, and we had no idea what the next years would hold. But we were happy to be on the journey together.
A few days before that trip, he left me a voicemail telling me he loved me and was happy I was coming for him. I still have that message. It’s my most precious treasure.
Lately, when memories hit, my chest tightens and I sigh to let the pressure out. Sometimes I cry anyway. And that’s good.
I’m especially grateful for the people who have understood where I’m at without me having to explain it, and who have quietly offered their support.
One month. Still figuring out how to carry this.
