Missing My Dad

I feel like I long ago came to terms with the death of my dad.  I dealt with my feelings and accepted what life handed out to me (and my family).  I've really never been angry.  I haven't asked "why?"  I don't think I went through a stage of denial or depression and although I remember praying and hoping, I don't recall trying to bargain with God for a different outcome.  I just accepted the loss because I know that wherever my dad is and whatever he is doing is more important than his being here with us.

However, those things don't mean I don't miss him.  I notice the lack of his presence at baby blessings, baptisms, family parties and such, but those occasions don't seem to get to me too badly.  Maybe it's because I'm sure he's there in spirit.  What does get to me, though, are the smaller things in life.  Like Brittany's piano recital.  I'm sure Dad would love to hear her play.  He'd be so impressed with the talent she has.   I imagine he would have loved conversations with Brooky.  She has a quirky sense of humor and some interesting thoughts and ideas.  I think my dad and Maya would have been partners in crime.  They would have been good buddies and Dad would have catered to Maya and given in to her just because, and also because he'd have known some things would get under my skin.

The incident that prompted this post today actually had to do with Damon.  Damon plays baseball and he's always looking for someone who will play catch with him.  He needs somebody to teach him how to throw better.  Damon is left-handed.  Dad was left-handed and he was good at baseball.  How I wish he were around to play with Damon.  Not that I know how to throw a ball or anything, but sometimes it's hard for a right-handed parent to teach a left-handed kid how to do certain things and there aren't too many kid-friendly videos on YouTube that cater to lefties.

It's the little things that make me miss Dad the most, not the big ones.