65

I've been struggling with today, Rusty's 65th birthday, for the last few days. I really debated whether to write anything or not. I finally decided on the walk home today to add a few words b/c if nothing else, I'm hoping it'll help me feel a little better. Totally selfish, but whatever...humans are selfish. Rusty would agree and understand.

Today's just a day. It's March 26th. A Monday. Totally insignificant for a million reasons. I woke up this morning and instantly felt kinda sad. It reminded me a little bit of the first few weeks/months after he died, when that was the first thing I thought about every day. As time went on, that happened less, but there are still days that it's my first thought. Today, though, it's been on my mind all day, really from the first minute I woke up.

So I guess I started thinking about what I missed the most about not having Rusty around any more. I have an old voicemail of his that I've saved for days like today, when I'm really struggling, and before I even listened to it, I had my answer...

I miss hearing his voice, and I miss him saying 'Hey' each time he answered the phone. I miss that second or two between when he answered the phone and before he said 'Hey' when I knew it was coming. He always sounded happy to hear from me, and that always made me feel pretty good. Even when we were going through some rough times as a family, he always sounded happy to hear from me, and he always answered the phone the same way.

Miss you, Dad. Every day.