Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

Today's your birthday.  Last year at this time we were planning your surprise 60th birthday party and this year...well, looks like we're the ones in for the surprise.  Because you're not here.  God, I miss you.  I miss your constant phone calls, your ridiculous emails and all of your stories about the newest thing you saw Stella do.  I look at her and how fast she's growing and how smart and beautiful and funny she is and I get angry that you're not here to see it.  That she's not here to see you.  She saw your picture the other day and she pointed at it and said "grandpa."  It was simultaneously amazing and devastating to me.  Almost as much as the fact that my children will never know you.  Will never know either of the people who bred and raised me and taught me to be the woman that I am.

Today is your birthday and instead of feeling joyous I just feel sad.  So terribly, heartbreakingly sad.  I'm so sorry that this happened to you, dad.  I'm sorry that you were always the strong one and that, in the moment that you had absolutely no control, your life was taken from you and there was nothing that you could do about it.  That any of us could do about it.  I'm sorry we couldn't protect you the way that you always protected us.   I'm sorry I didn't talk to you the morning you went into surgery, and that when I talked to you the night before I didn't say "I love you."  I think I regret that most of all, because I do. I love you so much, dad.  And I was a selfish brat the night before when you called, busy and rushed and without the time to appreciate your voice over the phone.  If only I would have known it would be the last time that I ever spoke to you.

Today is your birthday and in a few weeks it will be mom's and then the holidays and neither of you are here anymore and it just doesn't feel right.  It doesn't feel magical or wondrous.  It just feels kind of empty without you here.  You were one of the two most important men in my life and some days I feel so lost without you.  Like a little girl who can't find her way.  It's so unfair that today, on your birthday, I'm writing you a letter that you will never read because you are no longer here.  That I will never again feel your mustache tickle my cheek when you kiss me hello.  That we will never again laugh at our inside jokes, or argue about the same old issues.  That you won't be going outside to play with the dogs, or laughing at something that Stella does, or making spinguni on Christmas Eve.  That you won't walk me down the aisle.

Happy birthday, dad.  I miss you every single day and can only hope that you're somewhere out there, with mom, watching over me as I live my life the best way that I know how.  That you smile when I do something right and maybe even laugh when I stumble a little bit.  That you're together and happy and at peace.

All my love,

Shuey