Of Six Years Without Bill

What to say? I honestly don’t even know. Six years without you. Six years since I watched you take your last breath over Facetime because there was no time to get to Boston to be with you. I know you wanted me to be with the girls when it happened because you always put them first, and I’m so glad your parents were there so you weren’t alone. But I wanted to be the one to hold your hand and tell you how much I love you and that it was ok. That you had fought harder than anyone could. And that we would be ok.

You wouldn’t even recognize these girls of yours now. Kaleigh in HIGH SCHOOL with all the angst that goes with it- but with a heart of gold underneath it all. She still reminds me so much of you. Her eyes. They take my breath away sometimes because I swear it’s you peaking through. At the same time she is her own person for sure. 

Leah has now lived half her life without you. We’ve had so many ups and downs, but she’s doing so well. Her sweet, sensitive heart is on full display all the time. And you wouldn’t believe how she shines on stage. I’m so thankful that I can tell her every year about how you moved heaven and earth to get to her recital when she was 4- despite the pain you were in. And goodness, I don’t even know where to start with Zoey. She is witty, compassionate, joyful, and dramatic. Good lord, the drama. You would get such a kick out of her. I imagine how you’d laugh (and hide) from our estrogen-filled house. I miss the balance of having you here.

Leah asked me the other day if we ever kissed in front of them. And I said absolutely, yes. Just because

we wanted to hear them say “EWWWWWWW.” And then I told her how we’d dance in the kitchen together and how you used to do your own routine to that Selena Gomez song just to make them laugh. I try so hard to channel you, but I know it’s not the same. (They tell me I’m weird and embarrassing all the time, so I guess I’m getting some of it right.)

I love that some of our friends still share stories about you. There is SO much material out there. Ha! I just got a text today from someone reminding me of how you used to make us girls order your "frufru" drinks so you wouldn’t have your man-card revoked. Still makes me smile to think about it. I hope the girls will really listen to people’s stories and remember them so they can get a better sense of who you were. In some ways, you are still so present for me that it’s hard when I realize it’s not the same for them. Kaleigh went rummaging in your t-shirts not long ago and was surprised at the size of them. “How tall WAS Daddy?” It never occurred to me that they don’t have a sense of your physical size. It actually broke my heart.

All I can say is that I am trying every day to honor you, babe. To tell the girls our stories and to answer the questions they have. I’m so thankful for the time we got with you, but the more time passes the more like a dream you feel. Some days I think I’m filling the void ok, and then other times it’s so clear that they don’t really understand “dads.” It’s in those moments I think I grieve the most. Because you were the BEST dad, and no matter what I do, I can’t give them the experience of knowing what it’s like to live in a home with a father that loves them and fights for them. I continue to be so grateful for the men who show up for us. I’m thankful that the girls see glimpses and flashes of what it means to have a dad around, but it’s still hard to think about how it could have been.

Friends, thanks to everyone who reached out today. I decided to work to keep my mind off of the day. As you know, I always think I’ll do better than I usually do but being able to be with my “kids” at school was a great distraction. They have filled me with such laughter and fun over the past year- despite the circumstances of Covid. We continue to appreciate all of your prayers. We are so blessed to have you in our lives.