It's the first of January again. Even though it's been four years, it doesn't get any easier. I still get the shivers thinking of that very night. But I love you all the same Daddy, and I miss you even more each passing year.
I chanced upon this poem while onboard the subway a few days ago:
Heaven
(Patrick Phillips, b. 1970)
It will be the past
and we'll live there together.
Not as it was to live
but as it is remembered.
It will be the past.
We'll all go back together.
Everyone we ever loved,
and lost, and must remember.
It will be the past.
And it will last forever.
It speaks to me. The thought of being able to reunite with all our loved ones (who made an earlier return to heaven) one day; it keeps me going.
Happy Four Years in Heaven, Daddy.
You're dearly missed. ♡