Friday, October 25, 2013

My heart hurts.

The words, they don't come.

The pictures, I look at them often. Each one more precious than the next.

My heart, it hurts.

My head spins.

My breathing slows.

I need to push through. The rapid heartbeats, the deep breaths. Puffy and swollen eyes.

Each one of my tops stained with salty tears.

Lights flicker. Bulbs pop. A ball rolls into the kitchen.

Solitaire starts itself on my mom's computer.

The stash of cookies dwindles.

Cakes get thrown away.

Stale sprinkles fill my mouth, jelly filling, blueberry pie.

I look to find fullness. My heart has a hole in it that needs to be gone.

Chocolate cake and dried fruit and mints and grilled cheese sandwiches.

The matzo ball soup, the noodle kugel. Things for a Shiva call I can't bring myself to eat.

A Brooklyn bagel, what I longed for each trip home. What they brought me every trip south.

Dozens upon dozens and I couldn't have a single one.

They just aren't quite the same without my daddy smiling from across the kitchen table.

I don't know where to begin but I just need to pour out some words. These might not be the right ones, but they are mine. All mine.

And so, I share them. And then, I cry.

But it's okay. Because he loved me. And I love him.

A whole bunch, forever and always.

Love you, Daddy.

Thank you for always making me smile, laugh, and ensuring that I never felt a lack of love for even a moment.

* I wrote this a few days ago and have been trying to insert a picture since then. My iPad is not cooperating, but much of the technology surrounding my mom and I this week has not been, so I hold off, and promise that pictures will follow soon. Perhaps my iPad knows I am not truly ready? We shall see ...


  1. Oh honey, I'm so sorry. This may not be exactly what you set out to write, but it definitely resonates with me. You will always miss him, but someday it won't hurt quite so much, it won't be quite so raw. Someday you will share a Brooklyn bagel with your daughter and tell stories about him and you will both smile. *HUG*

  2. Sending you so much love. So sorry for your loss. Huge hugs.

  3. My beautiful friend, know that I'm thinking of you. I have no words to make this hurt lessen. Just know that I'm always here for you. I wish that I could hug you hard. xoxo

  4. Oh,Andrea. I am just so sorry for your loss. It's just heartbreaking. I wish I could be there to give you a hug and just sit with you. And now I'm crying. Daddies are just special. And I know from seeing the wonderful pictures of him on the blog and the lovely things you've written about him, he was extra special. More than special. He was yours. Sending love and prayers to you as you make your way through this grief. Love you, friend. --Lisa

  5. Thoughts and prayers are with you & your family. :(

  6. Oh Andrea. Thinking of you dear.

  7. ((((HUG))))
    Sending you so much love and prayers.

  8. Dear Andrea - Hugs to you and to your family. I'm so sorry. Love, Kathy

  9. He did a great job as your Dad! You felt loved every day. You are a remarkable woman. That will never go away. In the painful absence there's a lot of presence. You will make it through. ..lots of love.

  10. I am so sorry for your loss, Andrea. The words will return. They will. Glad you're writing and sharing.

  11. oh, hon.
    Of course. of course, of course.
    The pain will diminish with time.
    Love will not.

  12. I think what, and how, you said was perfect.


  13. my heart aches foryou. Thismust be so hard. If I can do anything (I am great at getting martinis) please let me know. Hugs.

  14. thank you for pouring your heart out, sweetie. Your words touch me, and Im grateful that you know your daddy loves you and you love him. <3

  15. As you struggle to find the words to express you grief, I wish to find the right ones to bring you peace and comfort. You have been, and continue to be in my prayers. Lots of love to you, my friend.

  16. Oh Andrea, I am so, so sorry. I can only imagine what you are feeling. If you need anything at all, call me. My prayers are with you.

  17. When I have had family losses, it is like walking through a fog for days. I know I have lived those days, but they have felt normal. Sending prayers your way.

  18. Dearest Andrea - So sorry for leaving you a comment so late, but my PC wasn't letting me for about a week or so. The issues finally cleared up, and I just want to let you know that I have been thinking of you. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I could give you a hug in person. Take care, sweet friend.

  19. I'm so sorry for your loss. Your words are beautiful.


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