Yes, I still miss you...

Some years are easier than others.  There are times when Valentine's Day flies right by and I don't think about you.  This year is not one of those years.  It is hard to mourn during the day of love.  My day of memorial and silent grief is interrupted by hearts, happiness, and public displays of affection.  I know it's not your fault.  I woke up yesterday morning with a song of sadness in my head that wouldn't go away.  My heart hung heavy as I trudge through the day knowing that tomorrow was coming.  There were several times that I just needed a hug.  Today was hard.  I lay in bed with that sad sound track in my head just wanting to roll over and go back to sleep.  Wishing to wallow in my sadness for a moment... as little children pulled on my covers and requested breakfast.  After fixing breakfast Frank and I had a sweet discussion about prayers and being able to pray for whatever you needed.  He needed to find part of a toy that was lost.  Thinking about prayer and how the Lord does bless us with what we need had me swallowing tears.  "It's ok mommy," Frankie said "you're alright."  Oh my sweet boy.  He is beginning to understand who you are.  I want him to know his name sake and I do the best I can to teach him.  I am so lucky to have had you in my life.  You taught me hard work.  The Barbecue Pit was a right of passage.  We were expected to do a job at age 12 and it paved our way into the working world.  You helped me to see that giving your best is what is expected and all that is required.  You bullied me into laughing at myself:)  R.O.P, Rachel out of Place was probably your favorite phrase to use at work when I was slacking.  I know I was your favorite to tease.  You showed me that having a sense of humor is a gift and not one that everyone possesses.  You gave me my love for music and showed me how a prayer of song reaches deeper into the soul.  Without music I would never have learned how to express the depth of my feelings.  You taught me gospel principles.  Jesus Christ is the firm foundation on which I stand.  Thank you, thank you for what I have.  There will always be a wish for more time or things gone unsaid but I am grateful for what was.  I still remember the last time you told me I was beautiful.  I was in your hospital room, just you and me.  You reached out a shaking hand to me and asked me to take off my mask.  You were still so unstable I was afraid of infecting you.  You insisted, and I removed the mask from my nose and mouth.  "You're so beautiful," you sighed as I turned a shade of red, "I have the most beautiful girls."  We both began to weep.  It was a moment I'll remember forever.  I know you look in on me from time to time.  I know you watch over us while Jesse is away.  I know that you love us, that you didn't want to leave us but had to go.  I know I will see you again... I know all that but I still miss you.  I love you Dad.

Love,

  Rachel