To my Girl

To My Littlest Love,

                It’s been a year since I’ve gotten to hold your hand and tell you I loved you as I kissed your forehead.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t smile, laugh, cry, cuss, and all that in between.  I miss you more than I thought I could ever miss anything in the world.  A piece of my heart left that morning and I’ll never get it back.

                But you know all this.

                You are there when the sun rises over the trees in the backyard.  You are there in those purple sunsets I see from the driveway.  You are there when I look at your picture, and even when I’m not.  You are there when I want to quit.  I feel you in the breeze sometimes.  I hear your voice when I’m alone on the couch.  It might be that I’m going crazy, but I know I hear it.  I feel you there and it is all that gets me through the day sometimes.

                I know you see my every move and everything that happens.  I know sometimes you are happy and other times disappointed.  I promise I’m trying to be the Man you thought I was when you looked me in the eye.  I fall short a lot, but I will do my best.  I still can’t sit on the couch without your boppy and can’t leave the house for the night without taking Beatrice with me.  They are my favorites, just like your pigtails.

                I’ll never understand why you had to go.  I’ll never understand why it was you that had to have cancer and everything else instead of me.  I talk to God about it all the time; I still don’t have an answer.  You were here Little Bit for a reason and did more for your Mommy and Me and the people around you than I could have ever imagined to do.  You were amazing while you were here, I’m just happy I was yours.

                I will see you again one day I promise.  All those times I imagined us running through the backyard and having that real dance will come true.  I love you Sweet P.

                                                                                                                                                Daddy   

What I saw...

   It was a few months ago that I noticed something I had never seen before.   Looking into Penelope's eyes was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.    I noticed it first in a picture from the beach.  Something about her eyes looked different and it took me forever to figure it out. 

   Those last few weeks I never saw once that Penelope was sick.  I believe that it is God’s gift to parents with special needs kids. I never saw the cancer taking over her body and slowing her down. I never saw it.  I knew that she was tired and tired of getting poked with needles.  I knew she was tired of medicine and needed rest.  I watched it all but I never once saw what she couldn’t fight for much longer.

   I believe once I got over the shock of something was different with my little angel standing in that hospital office, it never ran through my head when I looked in her eyes.  I was lost in her soul.  All she had to do was look me in the eyes and I was fine. 

 I saw strength not weakness from everything going on.

 I saw a fighter that could have quit at any moment.

 I saw myself in those beautiful eyes and it made me want to do better.

 I saw hope that one day it would all be alright because she believed in me.

 I saw a little girl who I wanted to give the whole world, but all she needed was what she was looking at.

   I have to say that “I saw” instead of “I see” now.  I regret spending time, whether it was seconds or minutes, looking at the things that were wrong some days.  I see people all the time looking at their kids but not really seeing them.  I see them on their phones instead of being connected with the little one in front of them.  I’m over here wanting just one more minute and they are wasting hours.  what do you see when you look at them?  Do you see a disability or a miracle every day?  Do you see their faults or their little victories?

   I’m so glad that I got to be in the moment for that period of time.  My memories are now my moments, and I’m glad that I had the chance to see the light in all the darkness.  It was a beautiful.

Yeah, it is hard...

   That is the answer to everything this week.  It’s hard to think.  It’s hard to look at pictures.  It’s hard to wake up and it is hard to go to sleep.  I get so excited to scroll through my Facebook memories, but then end up almost getting sick to my stomach from the feeling of it being just a picture now.  Life stopped a year ago at the end of this week.  We go on and have really done some great things in her memory.  That’s what is hard and forever will be: the distance between memories of then and life now.

   That whole cliché of time heals is complete crap.  Time doesn’t heal, it only takes me farther from the last time I got to look into her eyes.  Time has done nothing for me but make me so mentally tired sometimes I can’t stand it. 

   I’ve wanted to write a million things over the past few days.  I’ve started and I’ve deleted.  I’ve written a sentence and then my mind wanders 100 other places.   Nobody and nothing can prepare you for the day you lost your little love.  I have relived that day a million times, but something about the official “1 year” hits you like a freight train right in the chest.

   I wouldn’t wish this feeling on my worst enemy.  It is a feeling of being lost that you can’t even describe.  I want to talk about her, but I know I’m going to cry.  I want to think about all the amazing things we got to do, but it makes me miss them that much more.  I want to be happy with my friends about their little ones, but I feel empty inside when I can’t hold her hand.  I’m crying right now writing this and I haven’t even begun to talk about what I want to.  That’s life though right?