First and foremost, Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. There...I started off the blog entry on a good note. Sadly, I don't think I'll end it on one.

I don't know if it's because of father's day or just one of those weeks, but I've been missing my dad terribly. Honestly, not a day has gone by in the past week or two that I haven't been in tears thinking about my dad. I was driving to the Wild Animal Park yesterday and we passed a sign advertising beef jerky. That made me think of the incredible beef jerky my dad used to make. Seriously...you cannot buy beef jerky that comes anywhere close to comparing to the awesome stuff my dad used to make. The next thing I knew, my thoughts turned to his last few days on this earth. He couldn't talk, he could barely breathe, he was having seizure after seizure, but he would look at us and smile and once in a while he could even squeeze our hand. I can't think about how scared he must have been, knowing he was dying...how much pain he must have been in because the medicine didn't even seem to touch his pain...yet, he would smile at us and squeeze our hand to reassure us. Even on his deathbed, his thoughts were of us and his concern was not for himself, but for his family. It seems so unfair that such an incredible man was taken from us at such a young age. I almost had to pull over because I could barely see through the tears while I was driving.

More and more often I find myself remembering the good times I shared with my dad rather than his last few days, which were the most horrible days of my life. It used to be that when I thought of my dad, I could picture and think of nothing but the way he was his last four days of life. Every once in a while though, I can think of something fun we did together, or a conversation we had that meant a lot to me. Sadly, usually after thinking of those things...and they might even bring a smile to my face...I think of him dying and I end up in tears again. I can't seem to get rid of the pain. It's been over four years since he died, yet the pain feels as strongly as it did right after he died. I was told that it would get easier and that one day, thoughts of him would make me smile rather than cry. When on earth is that going to happen?

I feel horribly selfish because I'm so tired of hurting. I just don't want to feel this pain anymore. I don't want to cry over him anymore. I want to just be happy with my memories of him. I want to stop thinking about how much he suffered. I want to stop thinking about how hard it must be for my little brothers and sisters to grow up without a dad. I want to stop thinking about how unfair it is that Isaac, Taleisha and Chelsie had to go through losing their dad, then their mom, then our dad. I want to stop thinking about all of the primary kids who prayed and prayed and prayed that their bishop would live, only to have him die and them wonder why their prayers didn't work. I am just tired of hurting over the loss of my dad.

I was reading the blog of a friend of mine and her last entry had me absolutely sobbing because it explained my feelings exactly...yet made me face how selfish I was being for feeling the way I was feeling. She had a quote from the movie, Batman Begins, that goes:

That impossible anger
strangling the grief...



...until the memory
of your loved one is just...



...poison in your veins.



And one day, you catch yourself wishing
the person you loved had never existed...



...so you'd be spared your pain.

I love my dad with everything I have. I am so very blessed to have had him in my life...to raise me...to guide me...to love me. I'm just so tired of the pain.