What If?

I sit. Quietly. Wondering. Remembering. Listening.

Wondering how long we have to endure the What If question.

What If things were different.

What If we could turn back time.

What If he were still here.

What If I could talk to him again.

But we can’t.

So I sit. Quietly. Remembering. Remembering his way – the strong, busy, kind, fun dad he was.

And I sit some more. Listening. Listening intently to hear his voice in my memories. To hear him call me kid, his laugh, his encouragement, his advice.

And then, once more, I remember.

That nothing is forever.

That everything is just so sacred.

And that I should surrender.

Surrender to his loss.

Surrender to missing him.

Surrender to having nowhere to send the love a daughter feels for her Dad.

And, with that, I sit. Quietly. Wondering. Remembering. Listening.