It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that two years have already passed since you left. Time is moving so fast, but the pain? That hasn’t changed at all. It’s still there, lingering like a shadow, no matter how much life keeps pushing forward.
I miss you, Dad. Every day. Sometimes, it hits me out of nowhere—like when I want to tell you about something that happened at work or just chat like we used to. Then I remember…you’re not here. And honestly, that realization is just as painful today as it was the day you passed.
People always say that time heals, and I guess in some ways it does. I’ve learned to get through the days without breaking down as much, but there are still moments where it feels like I’m right back to square one. They never tell you that grief doesn’t really go away; you just get better at carrying it.
It’s weird to think about all the things that have happened since you’ve been gone—the milestones, the little victories, and even the tough days. I can’t help but wonder what you’d say or how you’d help me through it. You were always my go-to for advice, the person who could see things clearly when I couldn’t. I miss that clarity, that comfort.
Sometimes I feel stuck in the past, holding on to our memories. But then I remember how much you wanted me to keep moving forward, to live fully, and I try to do that for you. It’s not easy, but I’m working on it. You left a huge mark on my life, and I see little pieces of you in everything I do—whether it’s how I handle challenges or just how I find joy in the simple things.
Two years have gone by, but not a single day passes without you on my mind. I miss you more than words can say, Dad. You’re always with me, and I’ll keep carrying your memory with me, no matter where life takes me.