I Hope He Reads His Notebook

Early Monday morning, my father died, leaving behind my mother, his wife of 61 years, my sister and me, plus our kids and many more loved ones. We lost Greta, my other sister, in 2011. In fact, Daddy found her the morning after she had died in her sleep. We never spoke about how that affected him. My brain is incapable of imagining what that pain must feel like. This week has consisted of crying, planning, talking, laughing, hugging, and focusing on supporting and loving each other. Today, I’ve had a peaceful and quiet Sunday. I talked on the phone with my mom for a long time and have spent the rest of the day focusing on myself. I floated in the pool and soaked up some sun. I listened to music. I read. I slowly sipped this morning’s coffee and smiled when I thought about how Daddy and I both like cream and sugar, while Mama just likes cream. I ate peanut M&Ms for lunch. I hugged my son. I texted my daughter. I hugged my dog. I hugged my husband…a little tighter and a little long