Thursday, March 6, 2014

Moments are memories.

The moments.

They come and go.

I catch myself smiling and don't recognize that girl.

I catch myself crying and she looks more familiar.

I look in the mirror - and I look away.

Ah, who am I kidding? I look at my cell phone. I take the pictures. I watch as the smile on my face has shifted. It just isn't there the way it used to be.

I still smile.

I still laugh.

I have a 7-year-old daughter. Laughter is required. It's a means of survival. And it's the way life goes. When she smiles, G-d, the whole room lights up.

Is that how you felt about me?

It's how I felt about you.

I miss your smile so freaking much.

I see it in my dreams sometimes. Or I want to. I see you. But you're not smiling. You're just sort of there. I can't even explain what that's like. To wake up and eventually remember that I saw you. But now you're gone.

It hurts.

I'm raw.

So many people losing loved ones around me. I don't really know what to say. Except I can now say I know. I know. I know but I don't want to.

I don't want to know what it's like to say goodbye to my father.

I don't want to want your arms around me enveloping me in a huge hug and have to know it's not going to happen.

I don't want the only smile I'll ever see to be in photographs.

I want you. YOUR smile. In my face.

Your voice in my ear.

Your heart against mine.

I want your hand in mine. Playing with my fingers. Thumb-wrestling.

Holding onto my knee.

You're supposed to be waking up my daughter with her hair. Tickling her nose like you did mine. I do it. I do the things you did. I feel you - you're there - reminding me. Showing me.

I hear you in my mind.

But it's not nearly enough.

Where has your voice gone? How can I get it back?

I miss you, Daddy.

I love you. Forever and always.

I hope that you're somewhere, out there on the water, in the great vastness of blue that makes up this world we exist in. And I hope that you're riding the waves and feeling the sun.

And I hope that you're smiling.

* I'm linking up today with Shell over at Pour Your Heart Out. I'm a day behind, but she's awesome and doesn't care about stuff like that. 


  1. Oh this is such a beautiful tribute to your dad and a tragic look into your heart. Beautifully written though I am so very sorry for your loss.

  2. I hear you loud and clear My step mom died Sunday and she was my mom since I was 19. Thank you for sharing so beautifully.

  3. Beautiful. thank you for sharing your heart.

  4. Beautiful. thank you for sharing your heart.

  5. Thank you for the beautiful and delicate glimpse inside our heart. I miss my Mom, too. But I feel she is smiling.

  6. Okay I got through it the second time without crying. Whew. Beautiful. I've lost both my parents now and just lost a very good friend to cancer. Thank you so much for sharing. =)

  7. Andrea, such truth in these fleeting, up and down, sad and happy and bewildering moments while we grieve. I wish you peace and time to gain that greater understanding of yourself and what you can bear.

  8. This is a beautiful tribute and written from the heart. I understand your feelings as I still miss my Mom and Dad. I am so sorry for your loss

  9. I felt every word of this piece. Although I have such compassion for the loss you feel, it adds another layer to see the loss you feel for your daughter. You want something, not just that you've lost, but something for her that you cannot give her. I hope she knows him as well as she can through you and your beautiful words.

  10. Oh Andrea. I have no words, but this is just so beautiful. So heartbreakingly beautiful.


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