I thought about you today, again.  I was discussing the delivery of an item to Mom and Dad’s house this morning that could potentially arrive while no one is home.  “I can’t even have Poppop keep an eye out for it”, I’d thought.  Just one of the many things you did for me and our family- keep an eye out for our packages and bring them inside for us.  …Just another daily reminder of the void that your leaving has left behind. 

And last night I fell asleep thinking of you, as I often do, having to silently wipe away tears from my eyes until gratefully, sleep finds me.  And you appeared in my dreams, as you’ve appeared several times since you left.  I’m grateful for these dreams.  Although, I awaken more saddened by them most times, and later become angry at myself for forgetting the details.

I do recall, however, one specific detail about my dream of you a few nights ago.  As I’d often done when you were here in the past, I’d held your hand in this dream.  Only this time was different.  I’d held onto it so tightly, with such bittersweet urgency and angst in my heart, wishing all the while to feel our fingers interlaced this way forever.  I’d squeezed your hand, and stared down at it.  Your long fingertips reaching the middle of the top of my hand.   Studying your large strong hands that had done such miraculous things throughout your lifetime, I can recall with crystal clarity the feeling of never wanting to let go.  Those hands saved people from burning buildings…  They held your infant children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren tightly.  Yours are hands that held onto steering wheels for hours on countless drives to the beach for years and years to vacation with your most prized possession- your family.  They are hands that held wiffle bats and pitched baseballs, and created, built, tinkered and worked, that softly patted the tops of my children’s heads when we’d visit your sick bedside; hands I held onto until you took your dying breath.  Holding your hand is something I miss so terribly.  But, certainly, it isn’t the only thing I miss.  My dreams of you are bittersweet. But I never want you to stop appearing in my dreams, so that I may again look into your crystal blue eyes, and hear your distinctive voice and boisterous laughter dance through the air like music in my ears. 

I miss everything about you, Poppop.  I guess that will never stop.  Even though I’ve become used to your absence from my life- now nearing two full months since you passed on.  The normalcy is settling in, unwelcome as that notion is.  I’ve accepted the sorrow that creeps into bed with me each night as the house is silent and dark, and my thoughts drift to memories of you.    I expect the empty feeling left over after my dreams spent with you have ended.  And, I’m a pro at shaking off that morning sadness as I hop out of bed to prepare the kids’ breakfast and move forward with my day. But it’s the unsuspecting socks to the gut which I’m not so good at.  The ones that take place in the middle of a Verizon store on a weekday morning, reminding me of the fact that I don’t have you in my life anymore for even the smallest of things that somehow hurt the most.  That I haven’t yet gotten “used to”.  That I maybe never will.  That, actually, I may never want to….

Even now, there’s no mail carrier to bring you this letter I’ve written, as they have in the past.  So, I’ll be sure to try my very best to remember to tell you in my dreams, Poppop.  To let you know over and over how much you still mean to me, and how much you’ll always be missed and thought of.  And until then, rest easy… I’ll see you in my dreams.