A Letter to my Siblings

 

Dearest Dustin & Ashley,

I love you.

But most importantly, Dad loved you.

Thank you for sharing your memories of Dad with the world and for helping me share his story.

I know you may not fully understand why I started this blog, but I want you to know that I’m doing it for us.  I’m doing it for you, for Reid and Aubrey, for Adelynn, Brock and Jillian.  I want them to know their Granddad.  I’m doing it for any other families out there that might be treading the rough waters of Alzheimer’s.  I’m doing it for Mom.  I’m doing it for me.

I miss him.  Every single day I miss him.

My heart hurts and it feels like it’s been broken into a million tiny pieces and I can’t “jimmy-rig” it back together.

I’m sad.  I’m mad. I’m bitter.  I’m angry.

And I know you may be feeling those same things, too.

So, how do I continue to find joy in all things?

I remember…

Growing up with Dad as our father, I know days weren’t always rainbows and unicorns and happy face emojis.  I’m not sure there’s any family out there that can say that, but boy, we sure did have a lot of rainbow days.

From playing 500 in the backyard, assembling that stinkin’ pool every summer, helping him plant a garden, the big blazing weenie roasts, Wilbur, and the countless road trips, to burying him in the sand at the beach, playing barbershop, the bike rides, and baptizing each of us.  I could go on and on.

He loved us.

I know you both think I was the fair-haired girl, that I could do no wrong in his eyes… and maybe there is some truth to that, but I had numerous private conversations with him about the both of you.

He always only wanted the best for you both.

He loved you, Dustin.

He loved you, Ashley.

So much.

I was never his “good ol’ girl” or the one he spent hours with painting lines on the driveway or organizing baseball cards with, but rather he did things with each of us to make us feel special and loved.

He wanted us to run the race, to make it to the finish line, be more than conquerors.

He wants us to all be in heaven together.

There’s no one I’d rather be shoved into the back of an ugly Crown Vic with on our way to meet Jesus in the sky than you two.

So, I’m doing this blog.

I’m sharing not only Dad’s story, but our story.

I’m hopeful that time will heal, that everyday my grief will be less than it was the day before, and you both sharing your memories has gotten me one day closer to my heart being pieced back together.

Thank you again for helping me and I hope you can find some comfort in it, as am I.

I love you both more than I could ever begin to express.

My cup runneth over.

Love,

Your favorite Big Sister