I don’t even know how to begin writing this blog post. I honestly don’t. It feels so strange to say things like “We lost my Dad” and even worse, “He died”. He died? No he didn’t, no way. He couldn’t die, he’s the strongest person I know. He was just okay the other day, he was joking and eating grilled hotdogs with us. Hot dogs with “just mustard”. We just made pancakes together the other day and he was criticizing my pancake-making. How could he not be here any more?

My Dad was such a beautiful person. He loved everyone and saw every single thing as something useful and needed. He held onto things that looked broken or ragged, with the hope that he would be able to find use for them someday. To some, that may seem a little like hoarding, (it did to me once too) but now, I see it as my Dad was a hopeful person. He was a positive, glass half full, supportive, beautiful person. He was hilarious, in that adorable-old-guy kind of way. He was so cute and friendly, he was loved by every person that ever knew him. I am brokenhearted for my Mom, who lost her soul mate, for my brothers who were just at the beginning of their own journeys into adulthood, and for my Son, who will miss out on the best grandpa he could have ever hoped for. I will miss him every single day.

At my baby shower. I don’t care how fat and swollen I look here, I will cherish these pictures. He was so proud this day.

I took this photo while we were still at the first hospital we visited. We were waiting for the pain medication to work and it never did. For just a few minutes, he seemed calm and able to rest. I snapped this photo because I was happy. I thought he was getting better. Just a few minutes later, I was holding him and rubbing his back when he collapsed in my arms. This was the last photo taken of my Dad, the sweetest man God ever created.

I have to believe he’s in a better place. It seems like he’s just gone, but I know I’ll see him again someday.