Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Unconditional love has no limits. Happy Birthday, my Dad. Today (& every day) I celebrate you in all of the best ways - with blue skies and sunshine.

To hug him and squeeze his hand would be a blessing, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I feel him in every moment. He is smiling and laughing with me throughout the day. He is still the best dad and I love him so. Always guiding me, his physical existence was perfect and his heavenly appearance remains the same.

Unconditional love and grief go hand in hand. They’re intense, but ultimately the greatest gift. Grief looks different for everyone. It’s a long and winding road, simultaneously polarizing and obsolete. Some days you’re like f@$& yeah I’m doing great, I can’t be phased. Other days you’re a puddle nurturing a void that can’t be fixed. Every day I aim to be intentional with these feelings and fulfill his legacy - be kind, listen, be a friend, make others laugh, and enjoy the ride. I wear his sweaters, blast his music, smile at others, cheer on the hawks, laugh until I cry - I leave old westerns on in the background while making dinner, I play his morning classical station, eat frozen cherries before bed. I make him apart of my day, he will always be there. Experiencing his departure shaped me, in a big, beautiful way, I take time to feel all the big feelings and boy do I let them flow. I eliminated the pressure of timelines, now is now, and now is what we have. I sit deeply in my feelings, I've learned to respect them. Don't fear exploring your grief and don't compare your grief journey with others. You are doing the best you can. Today’s a perfect day to do something nice for someone else and I will still be making him a birthday pie because he might not be here, but traditions will never go away.