But not too many things, cuz that would make me busy, and that is something I most definitely am not. Well, I guess not. Anyway.

So last Tuesday night I was in my room about to go to sleep when I suddenly felt the need to get out my scrapbook about my father and browse through it. I touched his face in each and every photo, trying to remember how he felt when he hadn’t shaved and his beard tickled my cheek. Trying to remember him. I started to cry, but not in a heart-wrenchingly bad way. Just a “hey I still miss my dad- I DO have a heart!” way. When I got to the end, I got up off my bed, went to my desk, and took out some stationery. I’d been meaning to write to my grandmother for a while and send her some pictures, but this time instead of a “hello, I’m too busy to write you an actual letter so you get pictures instead” I sat down to write her a bona fide letter.

I told her how much I still miss my daddy, and said that I assumed she felt the same. And as I was writing it, I realized that I had never, in the three years since his death, talked about him or what happened with my Mamaw. And then I realized that I had never much talked to her about ANYTHING that really mattered. I don’t even really know her. So I finished my letter, and sent it off the next day.

She called me after she got it, and asked me to come visit her since she wants to talk to me in person about it. I think it’s a great idea. I haven’t seen her in a while.

But the really crazy thing? I called my mom after hanging up with Mamaw to tell her what we’d said, and I told her about the letter. She asked me when I’d written it, and I told her Tuesday night, and she said, “Heather, Tuesday was May 29th. Tuesday was your father’s birthday.”

I almost had to pull over. I got goosebumps all over my body. I had completely forgotten. I didn’t know. I’ve had times when I felt like a bad daughter for forgetting, but when my mother told me that, I realized that my body still inherently knows him and misses him and he is still a part of me and I think about him even when I don’t mean to.

It still blows my mind. But now I know that I’ll always be his daughter and that I can lighten up on myself about forgetting sometimes, because he’ll never be too far from my heart or my soul.