Dancing

It’s been three-years.

And still after 1,125 days, grief still catches me and shakes me to the core.  Often it comes at the strangest moments.

Saturday as I was in the middle of a home improvement project, a friend of mine called.  She was telling me about a daddy/daughter dance that a local church organized.  Her husband took their younger daughters on Friday night.  She told me that the girls didn’t let him sit out for one dance.  I smiled as she told me, because I could just envision my friend’s  youngest girl, with her long dark hair and her spunky-fun personality, standing on the dance floor, hands on hips looking at her daddy with the–“you’ve got to be kidding me, you want to sit down NOW look.”dance

The girls (and their daddy) had a great time.  I smiled as I hung up the phone and went back to painting.

Several minutes later, I found myself in a puddle of tears, paint brush in hand….Kevin will never get to take Ireland to a daddy daughter dance, he’ll never dance with her on his toes, or watch her get ready for the prom.  He will never get to walk her down the isle or dance with her at her wedding.  After three years, this grief still robs me of my breath.

As quickly as the tears came, they were gone and I went back to painting, but I was left with the lingering thoughts of what Kevin and I are missing, and no matter how much time passes, it still feels unfair.

 

 

 

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Comments

  1. jamie Bryan says:

    i love you my friend…

  2. Lee Ann Logan says:

    It has been almost seven years since Jeff. I am still, at times, blindsided by other people’s joy. I will never have the opportunity to see him succeed and be happy as a man and a father. Little things like the father/son Cub Scout banquet as well as weddings, graduations, births that my friends celebrate are bittersweet. Of course, I am very happy to share their joy! There are, and probably always will be, moments when my grief still takes my breath away. Hugs……

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