A post! Huzzah!

I haven't written in A. While.! The days seem to be zooming by faster and faster and I am barely getting into bed before I have to get out of it again. I wish time would go slower. My "baby" will be five in April and that is all she can talk about. Cary and I are trying to convince her to stay four forever, but she is having NONE of it. Stinkin' kid.
It's Sunday today and although Sundays are still quite hard for me, it is turning out to be a pretty good day. Next Sunday will be 2 months since my Dad has passed away and it has definitely been a very difficult two months. I still miss him every.single.day. Bug often talks about him and still asks "why poppie went to Heaven". I still don't have the answers for her.
A couple of weeks ago, right about the time we were pummeled with a huge snow fall, I decided it was time to go out and visit with my Dad at the grave site. I wanted to go alone, stay out there by myself for a while, but my darling husband wouldn't hear of it. He wanted to be there for me, physically and emotionally. In all honestly, I did need him there and was grateful he decided to go for me. :) He has known what I need, even when I don't (or won't) tell him.
We took all of our little childrens out to the cemetery, all bundled up, in the snow, to visit with my Dad. His birthday was December 14th and I had made him a couple of things with which to decorate. It was therapeutic for me to make something for him and know that he would be pleased with it. We went out and searched for him. Keep in mind it was covered with about a foot or two of snow at the time. We found him, somehow, and I gave him his gifts. I sat and talked with him for a good long while and told him some things that I felt like I needed to tell him. Things I wished with all of my heart that I would have told him while he was still here with me. I cried. Cary cried. My kids cried. It was a very emotional day. It also helped me quite a bit. I'm going to share some things that you might find completely insane, but they happened and think of it what you will. This is my *journal* and I need to write it down to remember it. Perhaps one day my kids will read it and think I'm a nut too. :) who knows!
To preface this I will say that since my Dad passed away, I haven't had an "experience" with him. I hadn't really felt his presence, which was somewhat of a relief while cleaning out his apartment, and some somewhat of a disappointment because I desperately wanted to feel a connection to him still. While at the cemetery, I pleaded with him to know and understand how much I love him and how sorry I am for not being the best daughter I could have been to him always. I still very much regret that. I also asked him to come and visit me to let me know that he is watching out for us and he is still very much aware of what is going on with us. I want him to know how much I love him and how much his grand-babies love him.
So, that was that. I left feeling a bit better. A good cry usually does that to a person, no?
A couple of days later I was getting ready for bed. I was sitting in the living room with nothing on except for the Christmas tree lights. I really like sitting in the dark silence watching the lights twinkle and a couple of special ornaments sparkle and dance in the light. I have a fatso cat named Marty. She's about 9 years old and acts as though she rules the roost around here. I threatened to give her to my Dad several times, but he didn't want to clean up after kitty cats. (understandably so)
She started acting really weird. She was pacing around the top of the stairs, staring down them, watching the door, meowing. I talked to her for a minute, but it didn't seem to help her feel better. I then thought to myself, I wonder! I wonder if my Dad is here! I kind of got the big eyes and brushed it off and went to bed, leaving Marty out here to visit with my Dad, if it was him. :)
A couple of days after that I was in the pantry fumbling around, trying to get things ready for the kids to go to school. It was early and I was tired. All of the sudden, I heard my Dad talking, saying something. To me? I'm not sure. I couldn't really understand his words and honestly I was a bit freaked out. I was trying to figure out who was talking and what exactly they were saying. I thought immediately to myself that it was my Dad and he was there. I don't know if it was my mind playing tricks on me, or if I was wanting to hear something so much that I did. Not sure. But, I did hear it.
When I told Cary about it later I got really emotional. He says that our loved ones don't visit with us to freak us out and they don't come around for no good reason. They will come and comfort us. I am comforted. Sundays are easier. I am healing. I *almost* don't cry when someone asks me how I am doing now. :) HUGE. Improvement. !

We will make it. We will never forget him. We will never stop loving him. That's the way it should be, No?

Happy Birthday Dad. Merry Christmas Daddy-o. Love you.