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This afternoon, it just occurred to me that today is my dad's birthday - he would've been 68. Kellie reminded me that the first year is the hardest because it's the first 'everything' after someone passes away.


I remember that after years of what was essentially self-imposed estrangement, I reconnected with my dad at my stepdad's funeral. I put my arms around him, gave him a big hug and apologized for being such an ass, for being a bad daughter, for keeping away for so long, bawling my eyes out the entire time.

In response, he hugged me just as hard as I did him, and told me that he missed me and that he loved me very much. He could've just as easily told me to go away; who the hell do I think I am or whatever. Instead, he showed me that he loved and cared so much for me, that he was willing to focus more on the present than the past. The kind of love that I needed and got from my father.


Some days, I miss my dad more than other days. Today is definitely one of those days.
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