It's not his cheek but I'll take it

It's no secret that every spring I think about my dad. He died on April 15th. I usually start having "dad moments" about now and this year is no exception. I find myself wishing he were here to do all the little stuff. It's weird. I am rarely overcome with sadness on Father's Day or Christmas Day; or any of the Hallmark days you would expect.

No. I miss him most in all the little things, that at the time I never even realized I would ever miss.

Like how he would always wait up for me no matter how late I came home.
Or how he laughed at almost anything that came out of my mouth.
Or the way he beamed with pride when I talked about owning my own business.

Or how I woke up to his smile at the foot of my bed every single morning I was in the hospital in renal failure.

Today and yesterday and the day before, I am most missing the feeling of
his cheek on mine when we would say hello or goodbye.

I just want to feel his cheek one more time.

It's ironic that my life circumstances are unfolding the way they are at exactly right now. I'm at a cross roads in my life where I need to make an important decision. I made a similar decision more than 10 years ago when I found out he was dying. I noticed the similarities today between that time of my life and that decision and the one I am about to make tomorrow. It was a hard decision ten years ago, and I made it purely on gut. I trusted myself. And I have never ever regretted it.

I'm so grateful my dad lives on in so many ways. I'm grateful to be reminded by him, even though he is no longer physically here, to trust myself and trust my gut. All is well.

It's not his cheek but I'll take it.