For Daddy - November 2009

Dear Daddy,

It feels like it's been a long time since I've written, but that's because I wrote at the beginning of last month and - well, that was quite a long time ago!

School has really picked up in November, so I've been busy with that. There was a point after I got accepted when I was somewhat excited about becoming a student again. Yet, while most of the courses are interesting, I'm not really enjoying certain aspects of this program. Thankfully, I don't have a whole lot of time left with it! Pretty soon I'll be a counsellor and all the other stuff will be behind me. I hope you're proud! :)

I think of you in the weirdest situations, and oddly enough - a lot of times it's because of food. The other day Craig made a pot of pea soup and all I could think was: "Daddy would LOVE this. I wish he were here!" Tonight we made the BEST nachos EVER and my first thought was: "Oh Daddy would go crazy for these!"

I find myself constantly worried that people who don't know me very well or know what happened will ask me something about you. And then of course I'll have to tell them what happened and they won't know what to say... and then it'll be awkward because they'll feel really bad. And then I'll be left thinking about the enormity of what I've lost.

Just the other day, actually, one of my profs told me that he was having a difficult time because a friend he had lunch with just a few days earlier had passed away. He went to sleep and didn't wake up. He was fifty. He had a wife and children. I sympathized with my prof because as he said it I could sense his disbelief and I couldn't help but think: this is my story. And there is no way to adequately describe the shock something like this causes to your system. I remember how it feels - almost too well. It's physical, it's emotional, it's mental, and it's every fiber of your being locked in confusion and anguish. It's coming to an understanding of why they coined the term: "broken-hearted." Because that's literally what it feels like. So I sympathize with that family and with every other family who knows what that shock feels like. It's something I never want to experience again, that's for sure.

Christmas is coming up and again this year I find it hard to jump on the festive bandwagon (though other people seem to do so earlier and earlier every year). I never used to mind people talking about Christmas in October, but now I just think: "Seriously? We haven't even had Halloween yet." Now that it's almost December I'm a little more comfortable with it. When I see the commercials on TV, part of me yearns to feel that excitement - to be that girl who adore Christmas more than almost anybody again. But then part of me feels like that's impossible when such integral parts of me are missing (you, nanny). However, as Chris Martin says in one of my favourite Coldplay songs: "Everything's not Lost." I know that. I'm becoming more and more aware of that, and I know you would want us all to be happy. We're working on it, little by little. And this Christmas, at any rate, should be better than the last. But just know that we'll be missing you the entire time.

I wish you could see your little grandbabies. And by grandbabies I mean Isaac, Andrew, Winston and Winnie. :) You would love them all so much. I know for sure they would definitely love you. That is, until you'd pick on them so much that they would either a.) start to cry (for Isaac and Andrew) or, b.) bite you (for Winston and Winnie).

Daddy, if I've gotten anything from this whole situation, it's the ability to be able to put things in perspective. When I come across difficult people or am placed in a bad situation, I'm now much more able than before to realize how little it actually matters in the grand scheme of things.

Still, I'd switch this new ability with my old naiveté in a heartbeat if it meant having you around again. I miss you.

Love,
Laura XOXO