Father’s Day

For me, Father’s Day was much more horrendous than Mother’s Day. My family and friends tried to do things to make me feel special on Mother’s Day, but on Father’s Day, there was nothing that could be done. Keith had died, and Father’s Day would never again be what I thought it should be.

Father’s Day was a painful reminder of what we had lost – what my children had lost – their Dad. Life seemed so cruel and unjust that a young man could be taken away from his young family. That small kids have to grow up in a world without their dad present. Why did my kids have to be the ones to travel this sucky journey? Why did I have to carry their pain in my heart? Why did I have to look into their eyes and see the innocence that had been stolen from them?

WHY? The question that I had no answer to…

So, as I remember my first Father’s Day 13 years ago, I hold all of you in my heart. There is nothing I can say or do to ease your pain, but know I am sending a hug to each and every one of you.


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