Today Jeff Gordon won at the Brickyard 400, setting a record for 5 Brickyard 400 wins! Do you pick 'em, or do you pick 'em? I watched it while eating a steak and thinking of you. Missing you really. It was quite funny, Kasey Kahne (my favorite driver) held the lead for 70 laps and Gordon (your favorite driver) had what seemed to be only one shot to pass him, and he did! I know if you were here watching it with me we would have been screaming for our drivers, pushing each other over while laughing, betting on which one of ours would win, and then you would have gloated for the rest of the day about how awesome Jeff is. Goodness, I miss you. Not a day goes by that something doesn't remind me of you and I am caught in a haze of reminiscing. I find that I lost my artistic outlets when I lost you... I no longer want to dance or sing. I can't even look at the violin you bought me without hearing your encouragement about it's beauty, and missing you because you truly were the best audience to play for. My mind's eye won't give me images to paint, and I can't write worth anything anymore. I am sure that in time I will find the inspiration to pick those things up again.
The numbness is gone though, Daddy. I am not sure how I feel about this though. Sometimes the numbness was nice because my heart didn't hurt so bad. But now I feel...I feel everything. I missed the ability to be alive really. It has been a few long months of complete complacency with life, and it is nice to have the emotions back. As much as the times of sorrow cripple me, the times of joy are pure ecstasy. It is nice to somewhat be back to my usual beauty-seeking self. I know you wouldn't have enjoyed to see the pit of depression I became, but I know you would have understood. How could I not struggle with depression loosing someone as impacting and close to me as you. Thank you for teaching me to love life and everyone in it. I truly want to strive to obtain your love for others. I just have some childish hope that you are looking down at me, and smiling.
Saturday I went wake boarding, and I was actually good at it! I see why you loved it so much when you were healthy! I wish you could have been sitting there in the boat watching me glide over the wake, facing one of my fears. I was so scared to do it, but I thought if my Daddy could love it so can I. I did it for you really. I also rode a jet-ski! I kept thinking of the stories you used to tell me about your jet-skies, especially the one where you dropped Baby Amber off of it on accident.... Point for Daddy. Maybe that is where I got my fear of water. Who knows. Grandma really misses you too, Dad. Her heart hurts a lot, and I really want to help but I don't know how. I don't think you know exactly how much you meant to everyone left here on Earth. Grandma really devoted her life to caring for you, and I don't think I could ever thank her enough. I am sure you feel the same way though.
I keep having these panic attacks over forgetting parts of you. It makes no sense really, but I will try to think of your face and not be able to come up with a picture of you in my head. Or, I will try to remember something you said to me and not be able to hear your voice. It is terrifying to me because I never want to forget you. Eventually I have memories that bring me images and sounds and I remember, but for those brief moments my heart stops and I am mortified. I got a promotion at work, Dad. I know if there was a way for me to call you and tell you you would say exactly this: "Baby! I am so proud of you! You work so hard! Can you take a day off though so we can go to Six Flags? I like Roller Coasters." I know you are proud of me. I do work really hard. But God, what I would give to hear you say it one more time. I know, that is a little vain, but you understand I am sure. I wonder if you miss people too when you're in heaven? Does it hurt you not to be able to talk to me too? Do you miss our midnight phone calls as much as I do? Sometimes the gap that is left in my heart seems to take over my whole existence. Some days are better than others, but lately they've been pretty rough. I think reality has set in that I won't ever get to hear you say I love you, or that you are proud of me, or even blame the airplanes for your flatulence. I miss you. I always will.
Now, go race your Nascars in Heaven and kick some butt!
Hugs, squeezers, kisses.
No comments:
Post a Comment