So, today marks six years since you have been gone. There are so many things that I wish I could say to you, one on one, sitting in the same room while watching the kids play. I do find comfort knowing that you are looking down on us. We talk to you often, Abby, Keely and I.
Oh yes, they ask a lot of questions. Abby remembers. Keely, not so much, but we tell her stories.
And now, as you know, we have added Connor, and most recently, Libby, to our family. What blessings they are. Connor, I know, would share your love of trains. I wish you could take him to the train museum, just you and him, and tell him all about them. And imagine if you and he could board those real trains that you loved so much. He would have a ball. Truly.
Libby is so much like Kee that it's crazy. I vividly remember that day at the beach, just a few years back, when you held Keely so close outside on the deck. You looked so happy with her. She was so happy being held by you. Libby is the same way. You would adore her, dad. I so wish you could hold her.
Abby and Keely are growing so fast. Sometimes I swear, I blink and they grow older right before my eyes. They have wonderful memories that you began with them. For those, I will be forever grateful.
Just wanted to take a moment to say hi. I think of you often - when I'm sitting outside and enjoying some beautiful spring weather, when the classical music plays in the house, when the clouds open up ever so slightly to allow the sun to peek through and rays of sunshine are everywhere. You are too.
Abby says that when the sky is like that, she feels that God is talking to her.
I agree, but I also think you are talking to us!
I love you, dad. I miss you.