A Hard Week Ahead

Since the calendar page flipped to November 1, I've been thinking of my dear Papa and how he died.  It will be one year on November 10 since he fell and badly broke his hip and by the very early hours of November 14, he had already been called home to meet his heavenly Father.  God knew it was time and that Papa didn't have to bear another surgery and all the pain that would undoubtedly have accompanied the aftermath of such a severe injury at almost 91 years old.

It seems our bodies remember and re-experience the emotions of those moments in life that were the most difficult.  I didn't need a calendar to tell me that the time was nearly here again; I've been feeling it's approach since mid-October and trying not to think about it.  I'm not looking forward to grieving all over again but it seems I have to go through this in the week ahead.  I can only pray that it will actually get easier over the years, as I'm told it does.

Papa, I miss you.  I don't think I'll ever stop missing your presence, your thoughtful gaze, you're way of paying attention fully and totally.  You were the best Dad any girl could have had.  I love you.