Missing you isn't reserved for special occasions or anniversaries, Dad. It's a daily ache, a constant longing. Every single day, there is a moment, big or small, that reminds me you are gone, and my heart breaks a little all over again. It is a quiet, steady rhythm in my soul: the beat of missing you, every single day.
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Missing you isn’t something I save for special occasions, holidays, or anniversaries, Dad. It isn’t just a wave that comes once in a while—it’s a tide that never truly goes out. It is a daily ache, a constant longing woven into the fabric of my days. Every single morning when I wake, there is a split second before my mind catches up with reality, when I half expect to hear your voice, or see you sitting in your chair. Then the truth returns, and with it, the quiet weight of missing you.
Throughout the day, there are countless reminders—sometimes obvious, sometimes small and almost invisible to anyone else. A certain song on the radio, the smell of coffee, the way the light filters through the window just the way you liked it. Each one is a thread that pulls me back to you, and each one reminds me that you are no longer here. It is in those ordinary moments that grief feels both sharp and soft, cutting and comforting all at once.
What hurts most is that missing you has become my rhythm, a steady beat in my soul that I cannot silence. It doesn’t matter if life is busy or quiet, joyful or hard—there is always an empty space where you should be. It is not dramatic, not loud, but constant. A whispering absence that follows me everywhere.
I find myself reaching for you in ways I cannot explain. In the moments I need advice, in the times I want to share good news, or even in the simple silence of sitting together. The longing doesn’t fade; it just lives differently each day. Some days it overwhelms me, and other days it feels like a quiet shadow walking beside me.
The truth is, Dad, missing you is not something I will ever “get over.” It has become part of who I am, part of how I move through the world. It is the cost of love, the echo of a bond that time and death cannot sever. And while my heart breaks a little more each day, I also know that this ache is proof
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