Sometimes I really miss my dad. Father’s Day is almost here and it’s one of those times. My brother is celebrating his second and hubby is celebrating his 15th (technically 14th, but R was born two weeks later. I count it). My brother, husband, and kids didn’t get to meet dad, so it’s weird in a way to have them celebrate him.
He’d be beaming at the mention of his grandkids. I know this because he beamed with us. When we didn’t work his last nerve that is. There are many pictures of all all smiling together. Real smiles, not the family portrait smiles. And baby bro looks so much like him that it blows me away.
I envy those who still have their dads. By ‘have’ I mean have a good relationship with him as adults. Believe me, I know you can have someone in your life but no really have them. But that’s a whole other series of posts.
Miss you, dad. I’d like to think that on some level you know how I’m doing. I think about what it would be like if you were sill here. You would like hubby. And the kids. You’d like our house. You’d be blown away by baby bro – his brilliance, sense of humor, and the resemblance. And you’d be totally wrapped around baby girl’s finger. She is something else.