Sunday, June 21, 2015

{Fathers Day}

Father's Day.
Year 2.

You'd think that the first year of widowdom (is that a word?)
would be the hardest,
but it's really not.

I assumed that maybe I was alone in feeling this,
but have learned, just this week,
that year 2 seems to be the absolute roughest on most widows.

I'm almost through it-
and I'm really praying year 3 is breezy.
(That's a case you didn't read my sarcasm.)

Year one was hazy.
But year 2 has been clear.
It's clear that I get to play both parents.
It's clear that I pay the bills and play both good cop and bad one.
It's clear that if the yard needs weeding, I get to do it! Yay me.
And it's clear that our life is still full of lots of adjustments.
It's also clear that I reap the rewards of late night snuggles with the girls and
they double the love up on me...
I have to remind myself often,
when it's clear that IT' S ALL ME,
that Trav would have loved to have been here for all of it,
the bad too,
so I better be grateful for it.

But oy.
It's a lot.

It's been pretty obvious that I'm a misfit for the past few years,
but even more so in year 2.
Year 2 means that everyone has moved on.
Old friends have found new friends,
and they've added to their families, and built houses, and life has just kept going for them,
and when things add up-
they seem to be winning and I seem to be losing.

I am trying my best every day to not add those numbers up and to be grateful for what I have.

And I do have a lot to love-
those girls.
They make me want to pull my hair out daily,
but they also just make me so dang happy.
They are full of love and laughter and all things good and I just freaking adore them.
They bring me joy on such a beautiful level 
and I cherish playing both Mom and Dad for them.
I truly do.

Fathers Day remind me of how much I miss him.
And how much I wish my sweet girls didn't have to miss him.

Travis was the Dad who got up in the middle of the night to feed the kids because he missed them while he was at work.
He was the Dad who would turn off golf for Disney to make the girls smile.
He was the Dad who would get treatments during the day and come home exhausted,
and still go for bike rides with the girls.
He made his time count and I have no doubt he's watching over them, (and me), always.
I miss his laugh and his warmth daily.

I'm reminded how incredibly lucky we were to have him here for as long as we did.
He set such a standard for my girls-for their futures.
And I wont forget his goodness and who he is for whatever happens in my future.

Fathers day also reminds me how blessed I am for the men who have
stepped in and been father figures
for my little ladies when they need more than I can give.
For the neighbors who invite them to canoe and shoot hoops,
to the coaches who Sienna, and the Uncles who watch Adyson sing.
To the Grandpas who are here for 1 am blessings and hugs, every chance they get.

So ya, it's a tough day.
Also a day to be thankful and to remember.

(I feel like that sums up most days around here!)

(I also should say that while year two has been rough, we are still doing as good as possible around here...and we laugh and smile and party pretty hard, so it could be much worse!)

Happy fathers day to those of you who step in for my family.
It means an awful lot!
I'm gonna snuggle my girls pretty hard today.

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