10/23/2024
It’s hard to articulate what another year without my dad is like. Although the world continues to spin, and life moves onward it’s an emptiness that remains.
The pain never goes away, but like a curled edge on a carpet, the frequency with which I trip over it is less and my mind and body have grown accustomed to the hazard.
Not to say that I don’t still fall on my face from time to time. And today, on this day, every year there is no way that I will ever avoid the fall. His absence is an obscenity that I will never be desensitized to.
The Dad shaped space that occupies my life where he used to reside radiates brighter on this day as all the things I wish I could share with him and tell him boil out of my throat and spill into the nothingness he left behind.
This month I saw two bands that I first saw with him, and while I enjoyed my show companions, it felt weird to see them without him. I want to listen to records with him. I want to show him movies that would make him laugh. I want to recommend books to him that he will discover in the bottom of a pile and read 5 years after the fact and call me to rave about long after they have exited my radar. I want to hug him. I want to hear him say “hey Paige-o” I want to watch him do too many things while he is driving. I want to shoot around of disc golf or wax poetic about sunsets.
All of this to say, I miss you Dad