Dad, 22 years today

I'm not sure if this blog can handle another post about my dad, but I feel I just can't let the day go by without commemorating him in some way. He died on this day 22 years ago.

And I still miss him.

And I still hurt for what happened.

And I still cry every July 3rd, no matter what is going on or wherever I am.

But the sadness is a brief disintegration of what is usually a fairly normal day otherwise. I continue on, as a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, even though I don't want to on a day like this. And tomorrow will be another day. And another year will have passed without him. And I've lived more years without him now than with him. And so what does all this pain mean anyway? Why do I care so much? I guess I just wish I knew him now, so he could see me for who I am today.

And we could chat about business. And art. And photography. And computers. He would love computers today. And the internet. There was no internet when he was alive. Or maybe he would hate it.

Who knows. It's a conversation that only takes place in my dreams.