Six years ago

It's hard to believe but six years ago, I woke up on this day and had no idea that life was about to change dramatically.  It felt a lot like today does.  Still feeling the post-birthday glow (my birthday is five days before Christmas) and eagerly anticipating all that Christmas brings from food to presents to family.  Work has died down and it's safe to check out for a while.

Six years ago, I departed my family's house early to head to meet a dear family friend for breakfast. My dad was sleeping peacefully.  All was quiet.

And then an hour or so later, my cell phone rang and my world as I knew it crumbled. It's all a blur from that moment but I remember racing to the hospital, arriving where the ambulance had rushed my dad  and never imagining I was going to be told he had passed away.  I remember thinking on the drive to the hospital that maybe we would be spending Christmas in the hospital where he recovered from whatever this was, likely complications from his battle with cancer.  Not the Christmas we had expected but at least in that scenario, my dad was with us and we would make the best of it.

But that wasn't to be. And just like that, my dad was gone.

I sat with my family in a stupor in the grieving room with family and friends trying to digest what had just happened.  But it's not really something that one is able to digest when a loved one is taken away so swiftly.

It's hard for me to think back on that day.  For a long time, I didn't allow myself to replay those quiet moments we had with him after he had passed away and we had one last chance to see him and say our quiet goodbyes in a tiny room in the hospital.

To kiss his cheek one last time.  To hold his hand one last time.  To remove his wedding ring and tuck it in one of our purses in a safe place.  To walk out of the room and not have him follow us out the door.

It felt so final.  And the feeling of emptiness that filled my heart was overwhelming and I wondered if it would ever go away.

It's taken a while to rebuild all that crumbled on that day.

But today, this day feels better than it has in the past.  I find the emptiness is being filled by my beautiful son and my wonderful husband.  And, also filling that space is cooking and writing this blog.  It's been nice to find myself remembering things my dad liked to cook or cooking something I know he would have loved.

So, thank you for reading the blog and for your feedback.  It's been cathartic and I don't think I expected that when I started writing back in May.  You've inspired me to keep writing this blog and in the process, it has helped heal a broken heart and reminded me to celebrate my dad's spirit and his beautiful life.