9 YEARS

Once upon a time, my dad lived in Korea too –talk about following in your parent’s footsteps.
​This is a scan from one of his Korea slides. He’s the goofball in the middle with glasses.

It was inevitable that as I scrubbed through old posts from old blogs, combining them into my new blog space, that eventually I would find the posts from October 2006.

dear dad​
​
I don’t know why but I feel like I can communicate with you like this. Maybe it’s all in my head. You just don’t feel gone. Everything is just the way you left it (more or less) and I’m terrified of the day when it’s not.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t seem to grieve. I’m sad, but I feel okay. Okay as anyone can feel who just lost their dad. I know I will never see you again, but right now you still feel so close. I’m afraid of what time will do. I don’t want you to just be a memory.

It’s quiet, and it’s late, and I’m in the kitchen all alone. Alone, like you must have been so many nights out of the year. It makes me sad to think of you where I am sitting now, but it also makes me feel like you’re right here with me.

I wish I could have been here more for you. I wish you were here now. I wish that we could have tonight to put together a puzzle or just play a game of cards. It hasn’t quite registered that you are really gone forever and I’ll never get to do so many things with you.

I love you, daddy.

I miss you.

Coincidentally today, when I found this post, is the day when my dad passed away nine years ago. I wish I could go back in time to tell my nine-years-younger self to not worry about forgetting because even now, after all this time, my dad still feels so close. The missing part, however, that never goes away.​