Does The Missing Ever Get Easier??

Not sure what it is lately, maybe it's the fact that my Dad's birthday is coming up on June 4th or that Father's Day is around the corner or that my awesome husband finally got my Dad's flag pole securely up in our yard, but I miss my Dad...ALOT.  It's funny, people tell you it gets easier with time and in some ways that's true.  I know longer feel the guilt I used to feel about his death, I've come to terms with it and know there is no going back so why be upset about decisions and choices that were made, it won't change things, he'll still be gone.  But the missing part and the whole in my heart just keeps getting bigger and bigger.  The pain I feel when I think about him hurts more than it did when he first passed.  Anytime I start to think about him too much I have to focus on something else because if I continue to I'll fall apart - yes writting this is not easy and I may just have to take a break now and then.

I've been having these weird dreams about him lately, he's on his death bed or he's in his coffin at the wake and some how suddenly he comes back to life and is fine.  One of the dreams had him dying in a car accident and then being fine - weird since he died 7 weeks after suffering a massive brain bleed.  It's a little disturbing, but at the same time it's amazing because I always somehow manage to get the biggest hug from him in the dream and it honestly feels so real that I wonder if this is his way of visiting me in my dreams.  Of course if it is I don't really get why he would go about it this way, I mean really he has to die and come back to life, why can't he just have never died in my dreams or come back as an angel or something, the whole rising from the dead thing is a bit creepy.  Although if I think about it he always like to refer to himself as God so maybe he's trying to pull a Jesus thing in my dreams.

I also find myself waking up in the middle of the night sometimes squeezing my eyes and praying when I open them I'll be in my room at my old house, the one we lived in before he passed.  You see if I'm in that house it means he's still alive because the only reason we moved was to find a home that we could live in with my Mom so she wouldn't be alone.  Always promised Dad I would take care of things when he was gone and although it hasn't been easy - at times it's been pure hell (got to love siblings) - I'm keeping that promise no matter what.   Anyway as you can imagine everytime I open my eyes I'm in our new home - although I swear for a full minute the other night when I opened my eyes I truly thought I was in the old house, it was the best feeling!

It's funny I'm not really sure which I'd rather have gotten easier, the guilt or the missing.  I almost feel like it would be easier if the guilt just hung on and got worse, at least I could rationalize that to myself once in awhile, but the pain of missing him....there is just no way around it.

Guess I was right when I said in his Eulogy...

"I will love you and miss you forever"