17,520 hours. 730 days. 104 weeks. 24 months. It's been 2 years as of today. 2 years since I saw you last, laying peacefully with empty eyes and a still chest. Tears may not have come in that very moment, but they've made their appearance many times in the moments since. There's just so much that I wish you were here to see, so many times I've needed your help.
Living without you is tough on all of us, especially around this time of year. At a time when fathers are being celebrated, we're left clinging to the memories we created while you were with us. If only I could have a few more minutes with you. To laugh, to cry, to catch up on all that's happened since you went away that day. Day in and day out, we go through the motions. I think I've gotten used to the fact that you're no longer around, in this earthly realm that is. Though it doesn't make me miss you any less.
You'd think making new memories would come easily, but it doesn't. There's always a strange feeling that emerges while we're spending time as a family, a feeling that something is missing. That something being a someone and that someone being you. On so many occasions I've uttered the words "I wish he were here to see this", or "he would have really enjoyed that". It pains me to think about all that you won't be here to witness, like meeting our future children and impacting their lives like you impacted ours. I'll do everything that I can to instill the same wisdom in them that you poured into me throughout your time here.
I'm glad that I was able to have you in my life for 22 years. You taught me more than you realize and you were an amazing dad, even though you'd probably beg to differ. You did your best and that's all that counts in the end. So, on this day and throughout this Father's Day weekend, I'll choose to hold tight to the memories we made and the times we spent together. I'll celebrate and honor you as if you were still here. Because, really, I like to think that in some ways you still are. I love you, dad.