Missing You

Hey Dad,

I can’t tell you enough just how much I miss you. I still have your funeral program sitting on my dressing table in my bedroom. Every morning I get up, I see your picture, and each time, a part of me just wants to sit and cry all day. I know that you were meant to leave us, but it is still unbelievably hard to try and live with that fact. I keep thinking of all of the times that your wise counsel is needed. I just need to hear your voice again. I just need another hug from you. I just need another father’s blessing from you. I just need you, Dad. I am being selfish right now, but I just need you. Please.

I like to read from your set of scriptures. Simply reading the little notes you made in your margins is comforting to me. I also like to read your Missionary Letters book you wrote about your mission correspondence with your family. I continuously discover new things about you when I read it, which helps me to cope with you being gone.

I feel like I’m grasping at straws. I keep trying to find more things that remind me of you because I just can’t stand not having you here. I know that you can still be there for me even from the other side, but I wish you were here so I could give you a hug and kiss goodnight and tell you “I love you and will see you in the morning.” I wish I could sing along to the Disney Zorro episodes with you. I wish I could do Saturday yard work with you. I wish I could do design projects with you. I wish I could have FHE with you and the family. I wish I could hear your calm, reassuring voice. I wish cancer would just go suck it and that you were still here.

I miss you Dad and I love you.

Love,
Hannah