Tears

I've been thinking about Dad a lot lately. I'm not entirely sure why. It's kind of just been happening. That's not to say that he doesn't cross my mind at some point pretty much every day. But it's been different over the last couple of weeks. It's as if I've been missing him more than I had been for a while. It's as if I'm missing him in the same, powerful way that I missed him in the weeks after he passed away.

I don't think there's any one thing that this can be traced to or blamed on. I did watch The Last Song a few weeks back. Not the greatest movie I've ever seen, but the story got to me. For those who haven't seen it or read the book, I won't spoil it. Let's just say it's a typical Nicholas Sparks style of feel-good movie. So it could be that that is part of the reason for this particular can of worms being opened up.

And then there was this week's episode of How I Met Your Mother. In the season premiere, Lily complains about how involved Marshall's father is in their lives. Her complaint is that Marshall is all the time on the phone with the man and constantly talking to him about every single event in their lives, whether large or small. When she complains to Barney about it, he tells her in a rare, touching moment, that if he had his father's number, he would never not be on the phone with him.

Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, a song came on that Dad used to sing. There are a lot of songs that remind me of him, but I guess in the heightened emotional state that I've found myself in I couldn't help but cry this time. It wasn't anything uncontrollable. I didn't have to pull to the side of the road in order to compose myself just so I could make the last few miles to my apartment. But the tears were real and they didn't just settle for filling up my eyes. A few of them escaped and ran down my cheeks.

My A/C is still busted, so the windows were down. I'm sure I looked and possibly sounded a little unstable to any other drivers that may have been nearby. But I didn't care. I was missing my Dad. Deal with it.

I guess I miss being able to talk to him. I've got a lot going on in my life right now and it isn't all very good. I'm not at a place where my joy is apparent because I'm surrounded by so much perceived misery. And I miss being able to go to him. I miss being able to sit down across from him in the living room to share what's going on. And I wouldn't go into it expecting advice, and he would know that's not what I would expect. But he would listen. And if it was appropriate, he would offer his opinion. He would tell me what he thought.

I'm a couple weeks away from 4 years since he passed. Maybe I'm ramping up to an emotional storm. Maybe I'm getting it out of the way early. Maybe I just miss my Dad in a time when I really wish he was around to give me a hug and let me know that it's gonna be okay.