Sometimes...

Sometimes I don't want to write about a memory. Sometimes I just want to state a fact...I miss my Dad. I wish I could call him and tell him about my lousy broken leg, ankle, and heel, and laugh with him about how I managed to pull that one off. I can almost hear him laughing, just enough to make me cry and miss him even more.

I can't believe it's been 2 months short of a year since I've talked to him and I feel like I'm the only one who's still grieving. Everyone has moved on (or at least they all do an excellent job of pretending they have), and I'm stuck in these awful, sad, and incredibly lonely moments I can't share with anyone.