If I never knew my dad; {I’ve decided this:}

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Grief does some crazy things to a person, and sometimes the very pit of the grief is enough to make you think, do, and feel things that would otherwise be unimaginable (like wondering if life would be better now if I never knew my dad from the start.)

I’ve decided this.

If I never knew my dad, I think I’d still look for him in every charcoal tundra that passed me on the street. I think I’d still thank the heavens when I saw feathers on the sidewalk and pennies in the driveway, and I think I’d still cry when Tim McGraw’s ‘my little girl’ came on the radio.
I’d wonder what it might be like if my dad could teach my kids how to bait a hook someday, and I’d miss him the most on Sunday mornings.
If I never knew my dad, I think I’d miss him in a different shade of blue.
It doesn’t matter how you lose someone, or whether they were never there to begin with, you still feel them when they are gone.
Instead of a hole filled with questions, I’m left with a hole filled with 25 years of memories.

Day by day,
Minute by minute,
And sometimes second by second,
I’m learning to find peace in that.

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