Dear Dad, I miss you.

Dear Dad,

When I was a little girl, you called me your sunshine. You always made me feel so safe, and loved, and protected. How blessed I was to have you as my dad. 

I will never forget that evening in early May.  It was a day I knew would come eventually and I dreaded its arrival. The phone call from mom, the look on Kaya's face, him shaking his head at me when he said "it's your dad". I knew that was it. The dreaded day had arrived. 

The scene was out of a movie and I felt like I was watching from afar. Watching in slow motion as the police officer said the words "I am so sorry for your loss". Mom cried and said "he is gone, Shannon".  I crumpled to the ground as if I'd been puched in the stomach. I wanted so badly for someone to be wrong. I wanted it to be just a close call. I wanted, more than anything, to wake up, shaken with the realization that I needed to treasure each moment with you before you are gone. But that didn't happen. I didn't wake up. It wasn't a mistake. It was real. It was my new reality. You were gone. Really gone. 

I always knew it would be difficult. I wondered how I would go on without you. Now, nearly 3 months have passed and I can say that it is more difficult than I ever could have imagined. I miss you more than can be put into words. Yet, I am hoping that the words I write here will help me heal. Maybe too, if anyone else ever reads them, maybe my journey will help someone else who has lost their dad. Because as much as it aches now, and as much as somedays I think I will never be happy again, I do still have faith that time will heal and that someday I will think of you and not feel my heart is broken into pieces. 

For now, the pain I feel everyday is so deep. It is a hollow and dark feeling like I have never known. Some days, it hurts to breathe. The tear ducts are wide open all the time. Just a thought of you and I feel the pressure and tingling in my face. I swallow hard to fight back tears.  I inhale deeply to try to fill my lungs with oxygen. Trying to replace the pain. Trying to fill the void you have left behind. 

I know you had to go. And I am grateful for the way you went. It was the way a man like you deserved to go. Peacefully. Easily. Gently. In your home. In your sleep. 

But I miss you. So much. 

Love your Sunshine