Five Years and Counting...

Dear Dad,

I can’t believe it’s been five whole years that you’ve been gone. Five long, painful, lonely, difficult, overwhelming, exciting, hopeful, important, beautiful years. So much has changed since you’ve been gone, and yet it seems as though just yesterday we were sitting on the porch watching summer thunderstorms together. Time is such a fluid entity--it ebbs and flows rather freely, leaving me confused and comforted all at once.

It’s hard to wrap my head and my heart around the fact that you never had the opportunity to meet Landon, the healer of my heart, the love of my life, my rock, my support, my once-in-a-lifetime. You were gone before you had the chance to shake his hand and tell him to take care of me. You missed out on the ability to get to know him as a part of our family and to take comfort in the fact that he will always have my best interests at heart. He loves me unconditionally, inspires me, encourages me to chase my dreams, and, more than anything, understands my (sometimes erratic) emotions. He not only helps me to carry the load, but he helps me unpack the anger and hurt and loneliness and tears when I need to. He is kind and patient and makes me whole again. You would have been proud to see me on his arm.

It’s difficult to think about the fact that you never got to meet your granddaughters, Elliot Delaney and Audrey Michael. They are smart, kind, beautiful, loving, energetic, and charismatic little girls and are a constant reminder of everything good in this world. It’s uncanny how often their expressions, especially when they are curious and trying to solve a problem or peacefully dozing off to sleep, mirror the face of a grandfather they never had the chance to meet. My heart will always ache knowing that you aren’t around to see them grow, but I am comforted by the knowledge that they will always know who their Grandpa Mike was through photos and stories.

It’s almost impossible to comprehend the fact that I was just six months into my freshman year of college when you passed away and now I am a mere four months away from earning my Master’s degree. Where has the time gone? I'm interning with a company I'm passionate about and I feel as though the possibilities for my future are so bright. I've pushed forward with my education to better myself and to constantly be learning and observing and participating in life, but somewhere in the back of my determination to finish this degree is the hope that you are proud of me and the woman I’ve become, wherever your spirit may be.

I love you and I miss you every single day, and while I would trade so much to have you back in my world, my heart no longer has the constant torment that devastated me with actual, physical hurt. Five years ago, I didn’t think that would be possible. Three years ago, I didn’t think that would be possible. And while there are days and weeks where the pain is more intense and the longing to talk with you just one more time is overwhelming, I don’t dwell on your absence anymore. There are infinitely more good days than bad and only time and the support of my family and friends have made that possible. I have grown and flourished so much in the five years you’ve been gone, but no matter how much I continue to change and develop, I hope you will always know the special place you’ll hold in my heart for the rest of my days.

I love you, Pops. Always.

-Ami