Father's Day without my dad

"I'd love to know how Dad saw me when I was 6. I'd love to know a hundred things. When a parent dies, a filing cabinet full of all the fascinating stuff also ceases to exist. I never imagined how hungry I'd be one day to look inside it." -- David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks

My dad passed away four and a half years ago. My life was so, so different back then. Just over a year out of college. Living with Matt, who was just my boyfriend at the time. No kids.

Since then, I have grown up drastically. Matt and I got married. We bought a house. We had Callum. The last time I was able to have a conversation with my dad, it was about none of these things. As terrible as it sounds, since my Dad has never been a part of what my life is now, it sometimes feels like he was never a part of my life. And, that feeling sucks.

On Sunday, I caught an article on Buzzfeed (of all places) with the above quote. Holy shit did it resonate. I never asked my dad what his favorite thing about being a father was. I never asked him what his proudest moment as a parent was. I never asked him what kind of grandfather he thought he'd be someday. God, the list could go on forever.

As time passes, sure, his loss becomes less of a open wound. But, it's obviously still there, and will forever be there. No longer as a constant, throbbing pain, but the sort of pain that arises in old joints on rainy days. The pain that erupts when you'd least expect it and hurts like hell.

One of my favorite things about my dad was the teary-eyed smile he'd give me anytime I boasted about a proud moment. I'd imagine that's the smile I would've gotten if I would've had the opportunity to tell him that he was going to be a grandfather.

I can't wait to someday tell Callum about that smile.