Warning: Sappy post ahead. Feel free to skip it. It’s my blog and this is my therapy for the day.
I wish you could see the beautiful young women all your granddaughters have become.
I wonder what you’d think of them.
I wish you were here to talk some sense into Ashley.
I wonder what you’d say to her. I just know she would have listened to you the way that I listened to Grandpa Ray when I was pregnant with her.
I wish you could have known Isabelle. It kills me that she is 5 and starting kindergarten and she wasn’t even born until 2 1/2 years after you left us. To me, she has always resembled you.
I wonder if your eyes would have filled with tears when you first saw her.
I wish you could have been here to celebrate your 43 wedding anniversary with Mom. It’s not fair that, instead, she had to go to the cemetery on that day.
I wonder what you would have done together to celebrate your 40th. And your 50th. And your 60th.
I wish you could see the man that Mark has become.
I wonder what you would think of his life and how he has triumphed
I wish you could see our house the way it is now. (Not the messiness, but the things we have done to upgrade and remodel.) We need to replace the flooring in the kitchen and it bothers me that you have been gone so long that you have never seen it.
I wonder what you would think of it. I wonder what your opinion on laminate flooring would be.
I wish you could have seen first Ashley and then Emily drive a car. I know, it’s scary isn’t it? Emily was only 7 when you left us.
I wonder if you would have tried to teach them to drive too. You were so patient with me.
I wish you could have seen Ashley graduate from high school. Emily will start her junior year and you won’t be here to see her graduate either. That makes me sad.
I wonder what those graduation days would be like with you here.
I wish you were here to laugh with Sam. He is so funny and has such a good sense of humor. He reminds me of you and Brett sometimes. He even sounds like you all.
I wonder how close you would be. He hardly remembers you. His only memories are of you playing Mario on the Sega and of the last time he saw you at your house when you were in so much pain. He remembers you offered him a grape. He wasn’t quite five then.
I wish you could see how happy I finally am in my life.
I wonder if you would be proud of me.
I wish you could have read this blog.
I wonder if this is what you had in mind when you said I’d be a writer someday. 
I wonder if you would have been proud of me.
I wish you were here so I could tell you how much I love you and how I have missed you in my life these last 8 1/2 years.
I wonder how different you would be.
I wish Mom didn’t have to live with Brett and Amy.
I wonder if you would live in the same place that you lived when you died.
I wish Mom could retire without worry.
I wonder if you would be ready for retirement, too, and if you and Mom would travel or do something fun with your retirement. I hope so.
I wish you would have been here on 9/11.
I wonder what you would have had to say about that day and about these wars we are in. I wonder who you would vote for in the upcoming election. I can think of reasons you might vote for either of them and, conversely why you wouldn’t.
I wish you could have met Delilah. You would love her.
I wonder if you would have wanted another dog after Buster died and if he’s in heaven with you.
I wish you knew how much all of us miss you and love you.
I wonder if you know that we miss you and love you still. I think you probably do.
Very sweet, Shelli. So many things to wonder about. It’s bittersweet, I’m sure, but nice that your everyday thoughts include your Dad.
Awww beautiful post Hon. I know what it feels like, missing your Dad… ((((HUGS))))
<3… hugs…
Toris last blog post..well butter my bisquit…
I’m lucky. My father’s still with us, at least for now. He turns 75 this year, and there are times when it doesn’t seem like he’ll make it to another birthday. Then there are times when it seems he might just live forever.
And I don’t talk to him enough. I think… I think after reading this, I need to go call him.
Shelli… I know it’s rough. I know it sucks sometimes. But you are strong, and you are able, and the simple act of missing him brings him all the closer to your heart. Thank you for sharing that heart with us.
Why in the world would I skip your heartfelt post to your Dad?
(((HUGS)))
Poppys last blog post..proud mama
Oh honey, he knows. He knows. You have to know that he is so happy and free of pain. You have to know that! He doesn’t want you to grieve for him.
It wouldn’t be heaven if Buster couldn’t be there with him.
((HUGS)) (L)
Heathers last blog post..I Love my husband…..
Oh you know Buster is with him.
I think he is with you every day…(((HUGS)))
Very sweet Shelli, he has read your blog. Your father is very proud of you.
Peggy G
You made me cry. Lovely post.
he sees and he knows and he loves you and he’s so proud… I don’t know much about much but these things I know for sure
Uisces last blog post..Sixteen years, more or less
You know… I’ve come back and read this thread and its comments a couple times, and I’ve got to say, I really appreciate you sharing your heart with us like this, Shelli. I called my Dad after reading this, and we talked about politics and family and, well, just the kinds of things you sit there and talk about. It was good to hear his voice and have one of those rare, lucid conversations with him, a man who’s losing his memory and his capacity for rational thought, something he’s valued his whole life.
One of these days I’ll have a list like this of my own. I hope when I do I don’t have to say “I wish I had given you the time and attention you deserved”.
Suzi–I welcome the thoughts of my Dad everyday. It’s just at times like these that I mourn his loss more sorrowfully than others.
Dutchy–Thank you. Having a blog can be good therapy, sometimes.
Tori–Thank you. Back atchya.
Simon–I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve most of the time. I think sometimes people get sick of it here all the time. I just write what’s on my mind and in my heart. I’m glad that I inspired you to call your Dad. Thank you for your kind words.
Poppy–I think sometimes people get sick of me emoting all the time. Thanks for the hugs.
Heather–I know in the deepest part of my heart that all that you say is true. Sometimes it’s hard not to “go there”. I feel his presence in my life every single day. Thank you.
FG–I think so, too.
PeggyG–I think you’re right. Some days it’s easier to think so than others.
Sandi–You and my Mom both. Sorry. And thanks.
Uisce–Thank you. That felt good.
I should have known better than to read this while at work.
{{{Shelli}}} He sees, he knows, and he IS proud…