This is my Dad's hand. I took this picture days before he died.
Dad's hands were strong. Not just any kind of man strong..a man who worked with his hands his whole life strong.
His hand spanked me when I needed it, patted me on the back when I deserved it, and held my hand when I cried, or when I needed help.
I miss Daddy's hands. I miss them patting my knee while I sat next to him in the months and days before he left us. I miss him.
This last weekend was my first time back since his death and the memorial. I wasn't prepared for how empty the house felt without him. We reflected on the last days, the loss and how to move on. Life will never be the same. But how I felt when Dad's hands touched me will never change.
I know in my heart that he will great me when I go to Heaven. I can't wait to see him in his youthfulness, feeling good. And I know he'll greet me with a hug. I can't wait for that hug.
I love you daddy. I miss you. I can't wait to see you again.
Dad died March 26, 2008 after fighting metastic prostate cancer.
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