The truth is, the sadness never disappears. Over time, it just became a part of me and my new life. Everything before this day six years ago belonged to another time and place, another life. It’s neither better nor worse, just different.
A lot has changed since my dad died. I wish he could have met Sly. I wish he could have walked me down the aisle. I wish he was just around to talk to. I wish he could give Sly his infamous four hour tour of his garage where he housed all his tools and machinery. I wish he were here to to enjoy the beautiful Fall weather. These are the things that makes me sad: all the moments he missed out on, all the moments in our future lives that he will never experience.
Thinking like this is like walking down a dark, endless, tunnel. And so I force myself to remember the happy times we had together. The happy memories that have become that much more special now that they walk hand-in-hand with sadness: My dad’s goofy grin. His crazy stories. His excessive cooking. His weird and silly personality.
I am lucky–we are lucky–to have so many special family memories. I am lucky that he was my dad.