366 Days

It's been 366 days since you left. I was going to write this yesterday, but I had a good day and was filled with happy thoughts and memories of you, so I waited because I knew that I'd be sad if I truly thought about how much I miss you.

I can't believe that it's been 366 days since I last talked to you. I know that probably doesn't really count because you couldn't respond the last time I called, but somehow, in some way, I have to know that you knew it was me on the other end of the phone.

In some ways, the past year has flown by. Like everyone says, the holidays were difficult without you around. This was my first Valentine's Day in years that you didn't send me chocolate...or at least a card. Since I was old enough to remember, we spent Independence Day with you (as long as I wasn't traveling for work, as I've done in recent years). I was in Las Vegas this year for work, but I thought about you -- and had a hard time not crying all day. This was my first birthday without you. Seeing as my birthday's the day after Independence Day, I had a couple of really hard days.

Most days, when I think of you, I smile -- I remember your twinkling blue eyes and booming laugh. I remember how much you loved me. There are days, though, when knowing that I can't pick up the phone and call you breaks my heart.

I miss you so much, Pop. I wonder if you'd like my tattoo that I got in your memory. I wonder if you're proud of me. I wonder if you found amusement in the Exit sign that inadvertently hung above your casket in the funeral home, due to fire martial regulations. (Somehow, I think you might have appreciated the irony.) I wonder if you'd be amused by the fact that I'm seriously thinking about taking a hunter safety course this summer so I can hunt deer with Jason next winter, even though I'm still not sure I want to actually take my own deer. (I have a hunch you'd be tickled.)

Next year, when it's been 730 days, I hope that my memories of you are still as sharp. I hope I can still hear your laugh and see your twinkling eyes. I know that time will dull the pain, but I hope that it doesn't dull my memories of you.

Most of all, Pop, I hope you know how much I still love you.