The Life

It’s been a year.

I can’t believe it’s already been a year dad.  An entire year since I’ve heard your voice.  A voice so deep it was like you were growling through the other end of the telephone when we spoke.  And when you were in a good mood it would rise.  Octaves higher as you shouted my name in delight when I answered the phone.  It’s been a whole year since I’ve heard that voice.
My voicemail is full.  Still full of messages from you.  I can’t listen.  I haven’t opened not one this whole year.  Maybe soon but I make no promises.
When I make the kids American cheese omelettes I think of you.  I cook the eggs until the edges brown and watch as the cheese melts in a way that only a slice of processed cheese can melt.  And I think of you the entire time.  Did you like American cheese omelettes?  I don’t remember.  But the way I can’t stop thinking about you each time I cook one makes my heart think you must have.  I wish I could make you one now.  They really are delicious.
I don’t talk about you.  Not to mom.  Or Mike.  Or even my sisters.  I don’t know what I would say.  So it’s almost like it never happened.  Maybe if we don’t talk about it we can pretend that it didn’t.  That you’ve just been too busy to call.  I’m scared of what will happen if I open my mouth and your name comes out.  I’m scared of all the things that I might say or feel.  So I don’t.  Maybe it will get easier.
I kiss my kids everyday.  I constantly tell them that I love them.  I know how much you loved me but I didn’t get to hear it enough.  I didn’t get a kiss on the head every night from you.  Didn’t hear you say I love you as I left in the morning to meet my friends at school.  I wish I could have heard you say it more.
I turned thirty this summer.  For the first time in years I didn’t jump every time the phone rang that day.  In hopes that it would be you calling to sing happy birthday through the telephone.   In hopes that you wouldn’t forget what day it was, leaving me at midnight wondering where you were.  This year I didn’t jump when the phone rang at all.  I knew you wouldn’t be on the other line.  I knew I wouldn’t hear your voice.  Singing me that silly song.   I’ll never hear you sing it again.
So that’s it I suppose.  I try not to think of you too much but you are always on my mind.  And that’s ok.  Its like I get to have a part of you around all the time now.   I miss you terribly and I pray you are resting peacefully.


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  • Reply
    Nancy Gambino
    December 7, 2015 at 6:09 pm

    Beautiful Danielle ❤️❌⭕️

  • Reply
    Karen Caruso
    December 7, 2015 at 11:55 pm

    Thinking of you.

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