Today, I find myself stuck in the past. While that isn't necessarily a bad thing, today, I just want to climb out and find my way to the present. I blame the bitter cold winter, but regardless of what is to blame, I can't escape these feelings. So, I need to write about them.
The anniversary of my father's death is fast approaching. He died February 16, 2001, and not a day goes by that I don't think about him. But, never more so than this time of the year. I was the epitome of a "daddy's girl" and the day I lost him, I lost a piece of myself. I've never gotten that piece back, no matter what has went well in my life, no matter how happy I am with the family I surround myself with, my job, my writing, none of it ever gives me that little piece back.
Of course, it's a little piece, and it shouldn't make so much of a difference. But, it does, because when you loose a piece of your soul, your heart...well, it changes you. It makes you into something else, it transforms you from what you were into a completely different echo of the same being. For me, no matter how many years pass, I have never found myself again. I've reinvented myself, but that hole in my heart will never fully be filled.
I love my life. I love my family, my husband, my kids. I love everything about my writing, being an author, being an editor. I wear so many hats, and I love that because never do I get bored. But, as much love as I have in my heart, there's still a hole and it's with my dad, wherever he is right now.
I just hope he's smiling down on me.