2 Years

I don’t think I will ever have the words. And I guess that’s okay.

Dad,

Now that I write the word and read it back, it’s special that I got to call you that. Looking back, I’m so touched that it was never a question how I would address you when I joined your family. You were the best Father-in-law a gal could ask for.

I sat down to write about what these past couple years have been like as I find that writing is freeing. I stared at a blinking cursor for awhile and decided I would just write to you. I find myself talking to you at times anyway. I’m not sure if that’s even how things work, but on beautiful days I’ll find myself saying that I hope you’re having a good day. On your birthday, Doug raised his ice cream cone to the sky and said, “Happy Birthday Dad.” I think we just like talking to you even if we aren’t sure you can hear it.

Today marks 2 years since you passed away. Time is a funny thing because I both can’t believe it’s been that long and also feel like we have all lived a lot of lifetimes since that day. As I get older, I find that time is one of my greatest teachers. It’s unflinching as it marches on, but it seems to leave breadcrumbs along the way in an attempt to be gracious.

I’m writing this watching rough waves crash on the lake…your favorite place. Last night’s storm left the water choppy and the skies haunting. But, a couple days ago, we had unseasonably warm weather with lots of sunshine. A few brave souls even took their boats out, your kind of people. The hint of changing seasons reminded me of how vastly different the seasons of life can be when measured up against our plans. It’s funny isn’t it, in the middle of all our planning, we tend to forget that we have zero control over any of it. The rollercoaster that the last 2 years have been are such an example of that.

We’ve all changed…frankly, so has the world. To be honest, it feels like a heavy place at times. Thankfully, God sends light (in big and small ways) that boldly stands in front of any darkness to remind you of the good stuff even when you can’t grasp it. Your cute grandkids are one of those things for me. Somehow they manage to get more funny and smarter by the day. I’m humbled to be their Auntie.

Doug and I often talk about how much we would love to tell you about what’s going on in the world and hear an, “Oh my goodness” in the way only you could say it. From time to time Doug will do an impression of you and it never fails to give everyone a good laugh. That’s one of his gifts…bringing laughter. His humor and even more, his heart have been a steadiness we need. It’s painfully beautiful to see characteristics you already know about someone rise to the surface (and to the occasion) in spite of grief (like Mom’s ability to make things like Christmas feel so special).

The same is true for Doug. He has not once stopped showing the kindness that comes so naturally to him. I have noticed how losing you has made him even more empathetic when speaking to other people…he was always a good listener, but these days it feels more intentional, more full force. He’s a tremendous spouse, friend, and person. I think his hard working, others-first spirit speaks directly to the man you raised him to be. You would be so proud of him.

Over the past couple years I have spent a lot of time trying to envision what heaven is like. I think when you love someone and they’re not with you, you want to know where they are and what it looks like. My earthly self still can’t comprehend, but I’m comforted to know that whatever my small mind can imagine pales in comparison to the glory of the real thing.

We miss and love you so.

Sincerely,
Ashley