352 Days

That’s how long it has been since my Dad died of melanoma.

I think of him every day, I have conversations with him every day in my head and I talk about him to someone else every day.  I can still smell him every time I hop in his old truck to drive anywhere.  I love that.

Most of the time I think I’m doing pretty well.  Until something sneaks up on me that I wasn’t expecting and then I feel like I’ve been flattened all over again.

Tonight we started watching My Sister’s Keeper and I could feel the sorrow creeping over me like a shadow.  The girl with cancer began chemotherapy and I lost the plot.  It was all so familiar.  I think Dave just about gave himself a hernia in his scramble to find the remote and change the channel.

To make a bad night even worse, our normally quiet neighborhood has been transformed into party central, overrun by obnoxious 18 year olds; shrieking, banshee-like females and their male counter parts who do not speak only yell and race the POS cars.  I do not drink enough to sleep through this shit.




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I live in rural Auckland, New Zealand. Two boys, one big, one not so big and 2 boy dogs belong to me and I them. I love Coca Cola in all of its sugar-less forms and I love you internet. I take way too many pictures of my kids and collect them all here. This is what I am doing when I should be cleaning or cooking or doing other 'useful' things.

5 thoughts on “352 Days”

  1. oh you had the tears falling at the end of the first line….

    I couldn’t watch My Sister’s Keeper last night either, all too raw for me. I lost one of my closest friends 2 weeks ago to melanoma (she was only 37) and my dad died in January of a heart attack.

    Hang in there, I hope you always feel your dad’s presence as you do now 🙂

  2. Thanks Lyn and Kylie! Better day today, it’s so unexpected how the dark corners in life are always there waiting and you never quite know when you are going to stumble upon one x

  3. Oh honey. I just feel for you so much. There aren’t even any words that I could use that would ease your pain and sense of loss.

    So instead I will just send you a massive *virtual* hug.


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