It's strange

From time to time, I find myself thinking about your Dad. I think about what I might want to share with him or talk to him. Talk to him about you, what you're up to and what you're doing. I'm sure he would love to help you navigate your independence. He'd want to help you move from one apartment to the next, just like I want to.

A week ago, I was near the hospital I took your Dad to when he was living with us. I thought of him then. I think of him from time to time and I find myself wanting to talk to him about the changes in my life. Then, I remember he's not here and I get mad at him. I get mad because he's not here to share all the things that has happened since he died.