Not His

She is growing so fast. It seems every day we let go of something.

She doesn’t fall asleep after one block in the car anymore.
Her favorite T-shirt shows all her belly when she raises up her arms.
She no longer packs up half the house’s worth of stuffed friends every time we leave.

As each moment flutters away and becomes a memory, a little piece of my heart twinges for what is missing.

He’s missing it all.

What I would give to hear his booming voice and loud laugh?
What would I sacrifice to see her sitting in his lap?

She’s never met him. She wasn’t even a twinkle when he passed. But just the same, as time goes by I’m missing him more and realizing that she is too. Even if she doesn’t know it.

She hears a booming laugh all the time. She has a lap to sit in. She gets all the love.

But not his.

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13 thoughts on “Not His

  1. Wow, this is very powerful. I’m so sorry for your loss and for the relationship your daughter will never have. I was hoping it would get easier with time but your slice shows me it does not.

  2. Whoever said and continues to say that time heals all wounds are liars. Learning how to be happy in each moment despite loss is the only thing I’ve found to help me find the joy my loved ones would want me to experience. I hope you find your way.

  3. The loss is so palpable to you, but not to her. It is hard not to imagine those we love in our children’s lives. My heart aches for the love your daughter will never feel up-close.

  4. I’ve sat here for awhile now trying to form a response. The truth is, I have no words. Your pain is seeping from this post. I am so sorry you’ve experienced such a loss.

  5. Oh Kim I can so relate as my youngest daughter grew up without ever knowing her grandfather. She will get to know about her grandpa through family stories and traditions. She will see him in you and your deep love for your dad will be reflected and felt by her.

  6. Kim, you have written a very moving slice. Time certainly doesn’t ease the pain, especially when there are so many reminders. My daughter once told me that she misses her Papa in heaven. She was less than a year old when he passed, so the only thing she knows about him is what I’ve told her. With each passing day I am reminded how those stories and pictures are a poor substitute for the real guy.

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