Bryanna ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

Grief is weird

With every white butterfly I see in Lyon, I always think of you.

With the taste of a semi-sweet coffee, I always think of you.

The taste of a cinnamon or vanilla cookie, I always think of you.

With every Cathedral I step in, I want to send you pictures of the inside and outside, but I can’t.

I know you are looking out for me, even in a different country, even when I can’t see you on your birthday or visit you. I know you are there with me in little ways. I will always miss how you bothered me and ate my snacks. I will always miss how you watched mermaid sighting videos and bothered Einstein.

I was 17 when you left, now I am 21 and I still can’t believe it. You and mom are everything to me, I can’t believe that I lost part of my heart that year. I had to graduate with only mom in the stands. I was hoping you’d live long enough to see me graduate high school. I hoped for a future where you’d meet my kids. Now, I can only hope that a butterfly is by the window to let me know that you’re here.

I remember seeing someone that looked like you and smelling your scent and you weren’t there. I know it has been 4 years now, but I just want to see you and hear you, even if it won’t be long. I am sorry that I won’t be there for your birthday this year, but I’ll be home the next day, see your picture, then visit you.

It is weird that I walk into your room and you’re not there to greet me, you don’t come home from work and give me any half-eaten snacks anymore, walk to the store because you want to, and even just sit on the couch and watch tv.

I miss you so much, Dad. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you or look at certain items for too long because they remind me of you or places I know you’d enjoy to see. I hope we can meet each other again. I am glad you let me decorate you before I left. I love you so much.