I miss him everyday. Everyday, I think 1,000+ times "I wish"...
When Kate masters a new skill. Or when she's flipping out in swim class and I'm left struggling with what to do next. Becky the cat, snuggled on my feet. Jake the cat, doing somersaults. Yummy treats. The first crisp fall day.
When folding socks and I find the last sock he wore. When I hear Kate tell random strangers that her daddy is in heaven.
The list could go on forever. But those moments roll past. What used to make me stop in my tracks doesn't even slow me down now. I feel the "missing" but it doesn't stop me. I keep moving. Breathe in, breathe out.

But tonight, today... I'm stuck. I'm stuck and I can't see past my longing. There is no physical piece of him left. His jacket doesn't carry his smell. His pillow has lost it's dent.
Kate and I have been to grief counseling. While I was assured (repeatedly) that Kate is doing remarkably well, the counselor encouraged me to keep Kate talking. We've been working on "feeling" words. Talking through our feelings and not getting angry, frustrated or reduced to tears. Today for the first time, Kate climbed into my arms in the middle of the day and cried for her daddy. She begged for answers and told me that nobody else will every play Playdoh like Daddy did. She cried big shirt soaking, cheek staining, tears. And I couldn't do anything but hold her.
I will hold her forever. Never letting her feel alone. I can't replace her father but I can be the best mother for her. Being stuck is not an option. Working past "stuck" is something I do well. I certainly did it better when he was here.

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