This week I’ve been as miserable as a dog in the rain, thinking about my deceased father.
My dad passed away May 7 one year ago today, plus his birthday was May 4, so I’ve been sad much of this week. But I don’t want to bring anyone down, so I’m not going to blog today.
“I hope Papa has a happy birthday today in heaven with Jesus,” my six-year-old, Jenna, softly told me the morning of May 4.
“I wish I could visit Papa in heaven for just one day and play – just him and me,” added Andrew, my seven-year-old.
Then first thing this morning, Jenna approached me in the kitchen.
“Daddy, can we go to Target and get a balloon that we can take outside and let go, so it goes up to Papa?”
I’m heading right now to Target with Jenna, and just can’t blog today. Although, maybe I just did.
Miss ya, Dad.
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