You’re everywhere, all the time.

Sometimes I just miss you. Sometimes a memory will make me smile to think of you. Sometimes I feel you with me, or smell your old leather jacket, and a hint of WD-40, musk, and you. I can’t hear you in my head anymore. I really, really want to. I know what you sound like, but I can’t hear it. There’s a difference, trust me. Sometimes I am OK. Sometimes I’m really, really not. When you left, I drove home screaming for you to come back. Even then I knew it wasn’t possible, but I couldn’t stop screaming for you. Dave drove behind me to make sure I got home safely. I don’t scream for you anymore. Not out loud anyway. I still cry for you though. Sometimes I can go months without being overcome by grief. Sometimes it comes in waves and breaks over me. It’s easier on those days to just let it come. I know you wouldn’t want me to cry, but I do. I know you would understand. You’re not here anymore, and you’re everywhere all the time. You’re Oreo cookies and coffee and lilac bushes and resting my eyes and parallel parking and blue-grey eyes and slapstick comedy and filming my kids and Blue Christmas and Mahalia Jackson. You’re airplanes and Hawaiian sunsets and scratched metal measuring tapes. You’re my hand cupping my chin when I’m thinking and thick hair and silent belly laughs and hockey skates on ice. You’re spare change rattling in my pocket and the smell of Canadian Tire and taking a trip to the hardware store.

I liked to be your girl. I still like to be your girl. I am old enough to know that I will always miss you. I will never go a single day without thinking of you. I don’t think April 21st will ever be anything but Grampa’s birthday. I hope that you are sitting down and enjoying your cake. I hope that you know that we are remembering you. All of you. Fixing the dishwasher, having a hot water in the “zapper” for 90 seconds, teasing every child and animal you came in contact with, driving with both feet on an automatic, coming up with logical solutions, wearing your heavy black shoes, giving scratchy good night kisses. I love you. We all love you.

“Weather man said it’s gonna snow
By now I should be used to the cold
Mid-February shouldn’t be so scary
It was only December
I still remember the presents, the tree, you and me
But you went away
How dare you, I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you
Living alone here in this place
I think of you, and I’m not afraid
Your favorite records make me feel better
‘Cause you sing along with every song
I know you didn’t mean to give them to me
But you went away
How dare you, I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you
It really sinks in, you know
When I see it in stone
‘Cause you went away,
How dare you, I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you.” ~ Miranda Lambert

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