It's been 1 year.

Today is 1 year since Papa Joe passed away. This time last year I was 4 months pregnant with Baby Bee. This time last year, Sweet Cheeks had just turned one. On this day last year, I gathered in a room full of family members and said good-bye to the greatest man I have ever known.

One year ago I hugged my best friend good-bye for the last time.

To be honest, I am still struggling with this. The part that I find the hardest is that after today I can't say that he was here "This time last year". I don't know why I have clung to that so much over the last year, but I have. It's somehow made it easier. Until today. Because after today I cannot say that anymore. After today, the "last years" become harder to face.

August 10, 2010 was the day of the funeral. That was the last day I saw him and touched him.

Today is a hard day. I've clung so hard to the "last years" memories and I don't know how to let go. This time last year was the hardest day of my life. This time last year was the day my heart broke in half. This time last year I cried myself to sleep every night. This time last year I was prescribed sleeping pills because insomnia isn't healthy when you're pregnant. This time last year, Rowen was still wearing the shoes Papa Joe bought for his 1st birthday. This time last year I was working with the Red Cross to get my brother home on emergency leave. He was planning to go to Iraq with his fellow Army comrades any day. This time last year I prayed for a miracle that would never come.

This time last year, Papa Joe was set free from all of the pain.

This time last year.

If I only knew then...

If I only knew then what I know now, I would have loved you better.
I would have hugged you longer.
I would have spent every moment with you.
I would have prayed for you {with you} more often.
I would have kept you closer.
I would have apologized for every sharp word that hurt you.
I would have listened closer.
I would have memorized the laugh lines on your face.
I would have made sure you knew how much you meant to me.
I would have told you that you changed my life.

I find myself living this year in the past tense. Such as, "This time last year, my grandpa was..." Or, "This time last year was his last birthday/holiday/etc." It's been 8 1/2 months now since he passed away and I can't seem to let go of last year. I don't want to let go of last year. I'm clinging to these final memories harder than I should be. This time last year was his last Easter. This time last year I got pregnant with Davis. This time last year we were getting ready to travel to the beach. This time last year he only had 4 months left. And we had no idea.

I would give anything to be able to go back to this time last year. I don't have any regrets. I know how much he loved me, and vice verse, because we told each other every day. I saw him almost everyday. I hugged him every time I saw him. I'm not living in regret. I just.... miss him. There are still moments I get half way through his phone number before I realize he won't answer this time.

Some days are harder than others. Some days I am able to think of him and laugh. I will remember something he said, or did, or loved and I will stop and smile. Some days I have to stop and sit for a minute because the memory hits me like a brick and I lose my breath for a second or two. And then there are the moments where I swear I can still feel him close by. I live for the moments where I can still feel his presence. I still need that.

If I only knew then what I know now, I would have taken the time to really laugh with you.
I would have watched one more baseball game with you.
I would have really enjoyed your sense of humor.
I would have laughed longer at your jokes.

I'm still missing you.

A letter to Heaven.

A letter to Papa Joe.

Sometimes I think everything is going to be OK. Sometimes I doubt that things will ever be normal again. Can you read blogs in Heaven? Do you know how many times I've tried to talk to you, before I remember you are not there to answer? I'm selfish and I feel like I still need you... I haven't learned all of your recipes yet.. I still have hugs for you.. I don't know how to check the oil in the Van for you. I need more time with you. More time to learn everything that you know. More time to buy you Christmas gifts, and to sit on the porch and talk about life. I need just one more phone call from you that starts off with "Baby girl, how are you?". I just want to sit on your lap and kiss your cheek and tell you how much I love you. I don't know how I am going to do everything without you. I don't know how I'm going to hold back from calling you when we find out the sex of Baby Bee, or when Sweet Cheeks is potty trained, or when we finally decide to go refrigerator shopping. I've always liked your opinions the best.  I don't know how my heart is going to continue to beat with this crack in it. What am I supposed to do on Sunday mornings now? That was our time... Me, you, and Sweet Cheeks. How do I fill that time? I can't replace you.

I just don't know how to keep going without you...

Goodbye.

Papa Joe

3/15/43-8/5/10

Dear Sweet Cheeks & Baby Bee,

This is a hard letter to write. Somehow writing it here makes it seem so final... more real that I am ready to accept. On August 5th, Papa Joe went to be with the Lord. He was the most amazing man I have ever met. I always felt I was lucky and so blessed to have him in my life. He was a man of integrity, and passion. He would always stand up for his family, and he loved his great-grand babies endlessly.

I never had a "dad". Not one worth mentioning, anyway. But Papa Joe stepped in to fill that role in my life. He taught me to drive a car. He took me prom dress shopping. He loaned me gas money when I was short. He answered the phone every time I got lost, needed advice, or didn't know which ingredients I needed at the grocery store. & Sometimes those calls came late at night, early in the morning, or multiple times a day. He was the one standing next to me on my wedding day... and every day before and after.

Sweet Cheeks, the day you were born, he was so excited. He sat around at the hospital all day waiting for your arrival. It was hard for him since he didn't have his oxygen with him. But he did it. Papa Joe couldn't wait to meet you, and he was one of the first ones in the room to hold you. He loved you so, so much. He bragged about you to anyone who would listen, and carried a picture of you with him in his wallet. He called you "Row-man", "His pride and joy". He taught you to sit up, and to climb on the couch. He gave you your first taste of chocolate. You loved to give him hugs and kisses as soon as you saw him. He got such a kick out of you.

I wish he could be here to watch you both grow. He wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as possible surrounded by family. I have photos saved to show you when you are older... We'll sit on the front porch with a cup of coffee and some old pictures and remember the amazing man called Papa Joe.

Love always,
Mama